


Varric's Wynter

by Sylwynn_Rutherford



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom, Dragon Age Video Games - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2020-10-14 16:36:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 48,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20603927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylwynn_Rutherford/pseuds/Sylwynn_Rutherford
Summary: Life among the Dalish is hard under normal circumstances. Being born a blue eyed albino made it a nightmare, particularly for little Wynter. Believed to be cursed by the gods, as her clan would say, she was sold to a traveling merchant for a few sacks of grain, where she eventually ended up on the doorstep of Lady Cherise, Duchess of Ylenn. Having no children of her own, the elderly woman took Wynter in and cared for her until her demise when she was just seventeen. Now, a renouned seamstress and weaver of fine silks, Wynter begins her journey away from all that she had grown to love. But can she survive the steely eyed dwarf who stumbles into her shop...(The work currently states it's complete, but it's got a long way to go, so hold on tight, and enjoy the ride! )





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

The dappled sun shone brightly through the trees above, while the soft babble of water in the stream sang a little song to the girl sitting just up the bank. She was at peace here, as it was quiet. Her porcelain skin couldn’t handle direct sunlight, as it burned excessively easy. The leaves above provided the shelter she needed however, enabling her to enjoy the afternoon before her. The rest of her clan were busily going about their chores, whatever they might be, while she was prohibited from working on anything she might accidentally destroy. She was cursed, after all. At least, that’s what the clan believed, given her pale complexion and snowy hair. They’d never seen an albino before, never even knew that was a possibility. And yet, there she was.

Her mother had named her Wynter when she was born, not only for the time of year in which she came, but because of how snowy her skin looked. As she grew, her clan had begun experiencing hardships, from having the Keeper die in a freak accident involving one of their aravels, to her own mother getting sick and dying from Blight sickness after a darkspawn raid. When her magic had appeared, she’d hoped the new Keeper would start training her as his second. Instead, he kept her as far away from himself as he could. He was terrified her magic would somehow corrupt his own, making him the monster everyone feared an apostate could become.

Now, she was sitting in her favorite place under the canopy, trying to pretend their voices didn’t reach her, or the harsh words they spoke were about someone else. Hearing her Keeper call her name, she got to her feet and made her way over to where he waited. Lacing her fingers together behind her back, she knew he didn’t want her to look him in the eyes, as he firmly believed her curse would spread to him.

“I’m sure you know what this is about.” he began, looking down at her coldly. “I’ve arranged for you to be taken with a merchant in exchange for some much needed goods. We cannot afford to have your curse remain with us any longer. It’s already cost us the lives of three of our best hunters, and the halla cannot afford to lose any more young. You will be leaving in the morning, so I suggest you gather your things. As a word of advice? I’d keep your magic hidden unless you want to end up in one of the shem Circles.” he stated firmly.

“Yes, Keeper.” she replied dutifully.

Daring a glance as the man turned away, Wynter let out a sigh. She was only eight, but knew the clan wanted this, if only to be rid of her presence. She knew they hoped her departure would bring them good fortune, despite the fact that there was no way she could have been responsible for everything that had gone wrong. She wouldn’t miss anyone there, if she were to be honest with herself, as she didn’t have any friends or family worth mentioning. Her father had turned his back on her the day her mother died, believing her responsible. Climbing aboard the merchant’s wagon the following day, she cast one final glance at the only home she’d ever known before setting off on what she hoped would be a journey to a better life...

Chapter One

“One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three... The steps are every bit as important as who you’re dancing with, my dear.” the older woman instructed. “If you’re going to attend any sort of gathering, you must at least know how to dance.”

“Yes, Lady Cerise.” Wynter replied, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

It had been seven years since she’d left her clan, yet Wynter never gave them much thought. They’d cast her out because she was different, sold her to a merchant for goods they needed to survive the remainder of the year. She was fortunate the merchant saw her as a highly valued trinket, as he’d paid handsomely for her. She was then given as a gift to Lady Cerise in the hope the Duchess would shower her favor on the man, thus promoting his business. Yes, she was a servant of the older woman, but she was treated kindly, and given every luxury befitting a noble in Orlais.

“You’re going to look so pretty tonight, my dear. I’m certain to be the envy of the party.” Lady Cerise beamed.

“I’m looking forward to it, my Lady.” Wynter smiled.

Returning to her dance lessons, she was soon spinning the floor as though she’d done so her entire life. She was a fast learner, after all, and was eager to make a name for herself in the Orlesian court. The Duchess had hired a private tutor to teach her magic, as she didn’t want to lose her favorite pet to the Circle. The Templars in the White Spire had been paid handsomely to turn a blind eye, though she knew they watched her whenever she was out on an errand for her Mistress. She didn’t mind though, as she knew they were really only just doing their job.

Retiring to her chambers once her lessons were finished for the day, she smiled at the mahogany spinning wheel and loom she’d been given for her last birthday. The Duchess had watched her working a bundle of wool with her hands, and sensed there was an aptitude for weaving there. It was something Wynter had seen her mother do before she died, turning soft fibers into magnificent swaths of material her clan would then use for their clothing, or to barter for other goods. It was the only connection she had to the woman, and it was something she truly enjoyed doing.

Taking a seat at the spinning wheel, Wynter was soon lost to the magic of making her own special thread. It was silky and soft against the skin, yet durable enough to withstand the demands of Orlesian fashion. She couldn’t understand all the foppery, as styles changed so quickly. She was learning to keep up with the changes though, always altering her material to meet the ever changing demands of the nobility. Nodding when she was called to supper, Wynter quickly washed up before joining her Mistress at the table.

“Wynter, dear, I have some wonderful news!” Lady Cerise began. “You have been invited to the Summer Palace to meet with the Empress to discuss her newest gown! She was so taken with the one you made for me that she insisted I bring you as soon as possible. You’ll need to draw up some designs, and bring along some of your best materials to show her, but she’s looking forward to seeing what you can do! Isn’t that fantastic?”

“The Empress, Mistress? She wants me?”

“Indeed she does. If you impress her, she may even commission you for further work. Wouldn’t that be delightful?”

“It would be amazing, my Lady. So long as I get to remain with you, of course.”

“You’re a treasure I’ve no intention on parting with, my dear. You’ve been such a pleasure to have around, I couldn’t imagine letting you go for any price.”

“Thank you, my Lady. That’s very kind of you to say.” Wynter smiled.

Finishing her supper, Wynter played the harp for the Duchess before retiring later that night. So much had happened in such a short while, she wondered how she was able to keep up with it all. Now, the Empress of Orlais, the greatest nation in Thedas, had requested her presence to talk about a potential gown. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, one she did not intend to squander.

Scribbling some designs in the days that followed, she found her heart fluttering at the sight of the Summer Palace. It was more elegant than the Winter Palace, with gold threaded tapestries and gilded floors and banisters everywhere she looked. It was breath-taking, and she could do little more than stare at all the marvels around her. Not that she was any less elegant, as Lady Cerise had instructed her to wear her pearly white gown to accentuate the pink tones in her skin, and her waist length hair was wound in a series of braids fashionably piled atop her head. She wore only minimal makeup, as it tended to irritate her skin. She was typically only able to wear a little liner around her eyes, which Lady Cerise had taught her to apply in such a manner as to make them look bigger, and more exotic.

Thanking the servant who showed her to her room, she couldn’t help but notice the air of quiet hostility the girl was giving her. It was almost as though she despised Wynter for her position, though she couldn’t imagine why. The girl lived in the Summer Palace, the most grand place in all of Thedas, not in some alienage tucked away from the sight of the Orlesian Nobility. It was a privilege she was certain anyone in the Halamshiral Alienage would have given their left arm for.

Sighing as she closed the door, she quickly set herself to unpacking, as they were going to be there for a few days at the very least. Smiling as she let her newest material slide through her fingers, she wondered what the Empress would think of it when it was presented to her. She’d planned on bringing some other samples, though Lady Cerise wanted her to sell the newest fabric, rather than something that was, as the Duchess put it, _last season_. 

Closing the wardrobe doors, she made her way to the Duchess’ room to assist the woman in preparing for their meeting with the Empress. Waiting until Lady Cerise called for her to enter, she slipped softly into the room and bolted the door behind her. It was one of her duties to make the woman as stunning as her age would allow, though the Duchess was already in her sixty fifth year. There wasn’t really much she could do to reverse the aging process, which, if she was honest with herself, made her a little nervous. The Duchess had no children, which would mean that Wyner would end up in the alienage when the woman passed. It was a thought that terrified her, as she was already seen as an outcast by the elves that lived there. If she was forced to take up residence... She didn’t think she’d fare well in such a hostile environment.

Stepping back to look the Duchess over, she smiled as the woman nodded at her reflection in the mirror. It made Wynter feel good to know she pleased the woman, as Lady Cerise had always been so kind to her. Helping her Mistress to her feet, she walked beside her as they made their way to the chambers they were to meet the Empress in. She had her sketches tucked safely under her arm, each rolled up and tied with a thin strip of dark red fabric. Moving to stand behind the elderly woman as she took a seat at the little table, Wynter rest her hands on the back of the chair, ready to answer the needs of those that would be present in the room. Dropping into a low courtsey as the Empress entered, she waited until she was given leave to sit before doing so.

“We were most pleased you accepted our invitation, Lady Cerise. We are most eager to see the designs you have brought.” the Empress said, taking a seat and reaching for her tea cup. “We were most impressed with the gown you wore to our last ball, and hope you will not disappoint us with something more spectacular.”

“Indeed, your Grace. My designer has brought you some truly inspired sketches, and can work them into a new wardrobe at your command.” Lady Cerise stated boldly.

Getting to her feet, Wynter took her designs to the elven woman that had accompanied the Empress, Briala, she thought the name was, and placed them in her hands. Watching nervously as the Empress carefully unrolled each one, she saw the spark in the woman’s eyes that told her she was pleased with what she was seeing. Passing over the swatch of material, she breathed a sigh of relief when the Empress expressed how excited she was to have the woman make her several of the dresses out of the new fabric. Looking back at Lady Cerise, she knew the woman would offer her praise once they were out of ear shot of anyone that might scoff at her treating an elf so good.

Returning to the Duchess’s estate once their business at the Summer Palace was concluded, Wynter immediately retired to her workshop to begin weaving the material for the Empress’s new wardrobe. It was a great honor to be making clothing for the woman, as it meant that she would bring in business for the Duchess once everyone saw how remarkable the Empress looked in her new finery. Not that Lady Cerise would take the credit for the designs, she always told those that came to her for unique clothing that it was Wynter that had created them.

Finishing the last gown several weeks later, Wynter made her way to the sitting room where Lady Cerise liked to read quietly on her chaise. Finding the woman looking paler than usual, she made her way over and took the seat beside her.

“I’m glad you’re here, my child. There is something we need to discuss.” the woman began.

Feeling her heart sink slightly, Wynter nodded her head.

“My heart is failing me, and the mages and healers can’t do anything to reverse or prevent the damned thing from giving out on me. I don’t know how much time I have, only that it’s borrowed at best.” Lady Cerise continued.

“My Lady, what can I do for you?” Wynter asked, feeling a tear steal over her porcelain skin.

“You can continue working your magic, my child. The nobility of Orlais would be lost without your gift for fashion. That can’t happen simply because I pass away.” the woman said, smirking as she held out a scroll.

Taking the rolled parchment, Wynter carefully opened it and read the contents. Her eyes widened as they took in the contents, making her return her attention to the Duchess once she’d finished.

“You’re giving me the shop?” Wynter asked, unsure if she’d understood the woman’s intentions.

“Not just the shop, my child. The apartment above it, the trade agreements with the merchants, and funds to keep it going for the next several years. I can’t give you my title, the Council of Heralds would tear you apart for it before stripping you of everything you own. I wanted to make sure you were taken care of though. You’ve been like a daughter to me, and I want to ensure you have the best that I can provide for you.” the woman smiled gently.

“I... I don’t know what to say... Thank you, my Lady, truly. I promise, I will live up to your expectations of me.” Wynter replied, wrapping her arms gently around the older woman.

“I know you will, my child. I know you will.” Lady Cerise smiled, returning the elven girl’s hug.

Little did Wynter know the woman who had taken her in and raised her as her own would pass away that same evening. As she’d predicted, the Council of Heralds were quick to swoop in and divide her estate amongst themselves. Watching in sorrow as the nobility of Orlais acted like vultures on carion, Wynter knew her life would never be the same without the Duchess there to guide her...


	2. Chapter 2

“Wynter, darling, how _ever_ do you manage to make such exquisite clothing?” a man asked, holding a particularly nice frock up to his chest.

“I don’t know, years of practice, I suppose.” she replied, checking the fit. “I think a little tuck here, a ribbon there, and you’ll look smashing.”

“The Belle of the ball, perhaps?” he asked, meeting her pale blue eyes.

“Are you going with Duke Cyril tomorrow night?”

“No, sadly he has made other arrangements. But he promised me a dance or two.”

“Then I’d say you’ll be as stunning as the Duke himself.” Wynter smiled.

“Oh, I can hardly wait!” the man stated excitedly.

“There! All set, Lord Brighton.” Wynter smiled, stepping away from the man.

“Your finest work yet! I trust a hundred silver will be enough?”

“It’s plenty, my Lord, thank you.”

“No, thank _you_ my dear! Perhaps you’ll come to the ball yourself tomorrow? I would love to share a dance with you.”

“Thank you, my Lord, but I think I’ll just stay home this time. I’ve got so much work to catch up on...”

“I hear the Inquisitor is going to attend. Do you think she’ll dance with me?”

“She’d be a fool not to, my Lord. Although, I _have_ heard that she and the Commander are rather close...”

“And she’s no fool. The Commander _is_ quite the catch. I wonder if _he’ll_ dance with me. He has such beautiful eyes...”

Shaking her head as the man let himself out of her shop, she went to the little kitchen area to make a pot of tea. Sipping the hot chamomile, she closed her eyes to savor the flavor. Hearing a commotion outside some time later, she looked out the window to see what was going on. Listening as the people fawned over the Inquisitor, she knew the woman would likely want to escape the crowds. Opening the door to her shop, she watched as the woman rushed in before slamming the door closed behind her. Offering her a fresh cup of tea, she smiled gently as the Inquisitor’s eyes stared at her in confusion.

“It’s alright. Most people stare when they see me, your Worship.” Wynter smiled gently. “My name is Wynter.”

“I’m sorry, damn. I didn’t mean to stare... I’m Mariah. Your parents named you Wynter?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

“Yes. My eyes were almost completely white when I was born, only changing to blue as I grew up. My clan thought I was a bad omen, given they had never seen or heard of anyone with my skin’s pigmentation. I was sold to an Orlesian merchant for two bags of grain. He then in turn gifted me to the late Lady Cerise. She raised me away from curious onlookers, knowing they would treat me poorly. When she died Wintersend a number of years ago, I took over the small shop she owned, keeping her name alive, if only in part.”

Watching as Mariah took in all the material she was surrounded by, she smiled brightly.

“These are my own creation. Most people haven’t even looked at them, as they prefer plain silk, or Highever weave. There are a few though who appreciate the uniqueness of them.” she smiled gently, thumbing the fabric.

“They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen before...” Mariah said, nearly breathless. “How do you do it?”

“It’s not difficult, just time consuming. I’d make more if they were more popular.”

“They don’t see the beauty...” Mariah whispered softly. “I’ll take them all. And if you’re willing, I’d like to bring you into the Inquisition as Master Weaver.”

“You would give an elf such a position? Truly?”

“Absolutely. I’d love nothing more than to see the beautiful creations you would come up with. In fact, I’m attending the masquerade tomorrow night, and would be greatly appreciative if you could make something for me to wear. Nothing hideous, like the fops around here wear, just something nice that doesn’t clash with my hair, or turn my skin a yellowish color.” Mariah smirked.

“I would be honored, your Worship.”

“Then let’s get started. What do you need me to do?”

Taking Mariah’s measurements, she assured the woman the dress would be ready the following morning. It was going to be one of the most beautiful gowns she’d ever made, rivaling even those she’d created for the Empress. Looking towards the door as she heard the bell a while later, she set down her sewing and went to greet her new guest. Smiling warmly as she saw a rather striking dwarf, she stepped over to where he stood looking over her bolts of fabric.

“I was told you had material that made Highever Weave look like toilet paper. Given how popular that shit is, I decided I needed an upgrade to something more unique, like me.” he said, looking slightly up at her..

Her breath caught in her throat as she met the warm hazel eyes that locked onto hers. His face didn’t sport the typical thick dwarven beard, being covered with only a layer of stubble instead. His shirt was open to reveal a mass of chest hair, the likes of which she’d never seen. Most of the Orlesian men she’d tailored for shaved their chests bare, and elves didn’t grow hair anywhere but on their heads. She found herself wondering what it felt like, a thought she quickly chided herself for.

“I do indeed have material better than Highever. What are you looking to have made with it?” Wynter asked, shaking herself mentally.

“I think I need a few shirts that can hold up to the weather in Skyhold, but still breathable enough to keep me cool while I’m traipsing through the bowels of hell helping the Inquisitor punch dragons or whatever mission we’re sent out on.” he replied, walking slowly around the shop.

“I think I have just what you need. I call it shimmer silk. It’s light as air, yet stronger than even the toughest canvas. Here.”

Moving over to where her material rested against the wall, she showed the dwarf the different colors she’d dyed the fabric, wondering which he’d be drawn to. Smiling as his hand went for the red, she watched as he let it slip between his fingers.

“There are more than a thousand threads per square inch, which is where the softness comes from. The way I weave it is how it gets its durability, holding up against even the harshest conditions.” she beamed.

“I’m sold. I need at least three red...”

“If I may make a suggestion...” Wynter interrupted. “I think you’d look ravishing in a deep blue, especially when paired with a soft, white leather. It would really bring out your eyes as well, and accentuate your muscular stature. Plus, blue makes people look taller for some reason.”

“You always work a sale like that?” the man chuckled.

“I’ve had years to practice my pitch.” she smiled. “I’m Wynter.”

“Varric Tethras, at your service.” he replied, returning her smile.

“_The_ Varric Tethras?” she asked.

“I don’t think anyone else’s parents would be that cruel as to name their child ‘Varric’.” he chuckled.

“I love your books. The way you write almost makes me feel as though I’m right there.” Wynter began, taking his measurements while he stood in place.

“Yeah? Which is your favorite?”

“The Tale of the Champion was good, as is your ‘Hard in Hightown’ series. Your romance serial is... _interesting_. Might need to include a bottle of wine with every purchase though, as they’re pretty cheesy.” she teased. “What role did you play in the Champion’s tale?”

“I was pretty much with her the whole time she was in Kirkwall. She and I are close. And before you get any ideas, no. Nothing ever happened between us. She hooked up with a broody elf named Fenris. The broody ones always get the pretty girls, and they usually have lots of little broody babies.” Varric chuckled.

“I don’t know, I’m more into rakishly good looking, perhaps even a bit on the rugged side.”

“That doesn’t describe anyone in Orlais, except maybe the Grand Duke.”

“I don’t find him particularly intriguing. He’s too caught up in himself. Besides. I could never be anything more to him than his mistress. I want more out of life than just a good roll in the furs.” she admitted.

“How do you know he’s good between the sheets? He might be lousy.” Varric teased.

“I have my sources.” Wynter laughed. “All done. I can start on these just as soon as I’m done with the Inquisitor’s dress for tomorrow night. How many did you want?”

“A few. You sure you’ll be able to get these finished before we leave Orlais?” Varric asked, slipping his jacket back on.

“You _doubt_ me, sir?” she smirked.

“No, just making sure you’re up to the task.”

“_Should_ the unthinkable happen and for some strange reason, I _don’t_ get them done, I’d then say it was a good thing I was going to Skyhold with you when you leave day after next. I’ll have plenty of time to finish them on the road, and since you’ll be close by, I’ll be able to check the fit as we go.” she grinned playfully.

“You’re coming with us to Skyhold?”

“Is there a problem with that?”

“No, no problem at all. It just means I’ll have someone _else_ to banter with along the way. Hope you’re up for the challenge” Varric smirked, letting himself out of the shop.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Wynter smiled to herself.

Returning to her sewing, Wynter found herself eager to leave for Skyhold. It would be an interesting journey, to say the least. She was leaving the only place she’d felt wanted, needed, on an adventure into the unknown. When she’d left her clan, she’d been glad for the change, as it meant she wouldn’t be blamed for every little thing that went wrong. Now, she was starting another chapter in her life, one that would take her to places she’d only dreamed of...


	3. Chapter 3

Packing the shop had been difficult, as there were many items that needed to be handled carefully. Running her hand along the empty shelves, she wondered if Lady Cerise would be upset that she was selling the last connection she’d had to the woman. She’d already gotten three offers on the place, one from a woman who intended to use it as a dance studio. It was something she could appreciate, as Lady Cerise had ensured she herself had learned how to dance with the nobility.

Climbing aboard the carriage, she cast one final glance at the market in Val Royeaux. No one was making her leave, as had been the case with her clan, this was a decision she’d made for herself. Opening her copy of the latest ‘Hard in Hightown’ series, she settled in for the ride ahead. Reaching an inn just before nightfall, she took the large Qunari’s hand and stepped onto the cobblestone path. Offering the one eyed man a warm smile, she made her way into the building and looked around.

For being close to Orlais, it didn’t have quite the same grandeur. It was more welcoming than Val Royeaux however, with a warm fire in the hearth, and the smell of fresh baked bread wafting from the kitchens. Making her way to the counter, she was relieved to hear that the Inquisitor had already procured rooms for them all, guessing that there wouldn’t have been space otherwise. Hearing her name from across the room, she turned to see Varric smiling and waving her over.

Joining him, the Inquisitor, the large one eyed Qunari and another man she could only assume was the Qunari’s lover - based solely on the fact that he had his hand on the Qunari’s inner thigh, she took the seat the dwarf had pulled out for her. Nodding as the two men were introduced as Iron Bull and Dorian, she gave them a warm smile. Blushing as the Inquisitor told them she was the best weaver and seamstress she’d ever met, she met Varric’s eyes as he went on to agree.

“The best? Sounds like I’ll be visiting your shop rather frequently.” Dorian smirked.

“Yeah, sorry about your silk underthings.” Bull said, offering the man an apologetic smile.

“You _may_ be a brute, but you could at least _try_ to be careful with my clothing. Most of it is rather costly.” Dorian retorted.

“Sorry, I kind of get lost in the moment. If you weren’t so...”

“Save it for the bedroom, Tiny.” Varric chuckled.

“Jealous much?” Bull smirked.

“No, I just don’t think our guest needs to hear what goes on with you and Sparkler behind closed doors.” Varric laughed.

“Could be worse. She could be hearing what our fearless leader and the _Commander_ are doing behind closed doors.” Dorian grinned.

“If she’s staying in _this_ inn, she’s _definitely_ going to hear.” Bull added.

“Hear what?” a tall, blonde man asked as he moved to sit beside the Inquisitor.

“What you and her Inquisatorialness do when you think no one else can hear. You’re not exactly _quiet_, Curly.” Varric smirked.

“Yeah, he wanted a sweater for Yule, but got a screamer instead.” Bull laughed.

“Andraste, preserve me.” the man said.

“Or else he’d never have the stamina to give Mariah here a good weinering.” Dorian added.

“Are you three finished?” Mariah asked, glaring at the men.

“Considering our location, it would probably be best to leave this conversation for the road.” lady Josephine said as she claimed another of the empty seats. “How are you enjoying the trip so far?” the woman continued, turning to face her.

“It’s ok so far, lady Ambassador. It’s been ages since I made such a long journey... Since my clan sold me to a merchant for a few sacks of grain.” Wynter replied, her tone indifferent to what she’d just said.

“You were sold for grain?” Josephine pressed.

“Right after my mother died. The Keeper, _all_ the clan, thought I was a curse, given they’d never seen someone like me before. With everything that happened leading up to that point, I could understand it.” Wynter answered.

“I’m so sorry...” Josephine said.

“I’m not. Lady Cerise took me in as her own when the merchant gifted me to her. She had no children, so I became her daughter, in a sense. I was provided all the luxuries a noble could afford without the burden of the title. When she passed a few years after the Blight, she made sure I was taken care of so that I wouldn’t want for anything. I’ve done quite well for myself since then. Better than I could have with the Dalish, to say the least.” Wynter smiled.

Offering the group a warm smile as they met her eyes, she knew they doubted her statement that she was ok with all that had happened. There was little she could do to change their minds at the moment, and so decided to change the subject. Catching a bit of the conversation from a nearby table, Wynter furrowed her brow.

“You ok, there Wynter?” Bull asked, genuine concern etched on his face.

“People are talking about the ball last night... Is it true that the Empress was murdered?” she replied, looking to each of them.

“Florianne was in cohorts with Corypheus and murdered the Empress in an attempt to throw Orlais in to chaos. She meant to murder her brother and the Council of Heralds as well, leaving the crown to herself so that she could open the country to the army of demons the Elder One was trying to create. No one would be able to challenge her rule, with everyone else dead.” Varric answered.

“What about Briala?” Wynter pressed.

“She was executed last night by Emperor Gaspard for treason. Apparently, she’d been sabotaging the peace talks by sending false information to both Gaspard and Celene’s forces to draw out their hostilities toward one another. Gaspard rules alone. That doesn’t bother you, I hope.” the Inquisitor asked.

“No, quite the contrary. I’m relieved she met such a fate, given she was eating grapes at the woman’s side when she burned the Halamshiral alienage. I lost many friends that day, and have wished she would meet a similar fate that they did.” Wynter replied.

“Gaspard made it swift, as he didn’t want to risk her being rescued by any of the elves in the palace. Most of them were working for her as it was.” Mariah said softly.

Letting out a soft sigh, Wynter knew the Empress had finally lost the Game. She was a skilled player, but was blinded by her confidence to the danger around her. Deciding to forgo her supper, she bid everyone a good night before making her way up to the chamber that had been procured for her. Bolting the door behind her, she took off her shoes and travel clothes before she then pulled on a dressing gown and crawling into bed. They’d covered some decent ground today, but they still had a long way to go to get to Skyhold. Holding the pillow close as she closed her eyes, she soon drifted off into an easy sleep.

The remainder of the trip to Skyhold went in a similar fashion to that first day, with the banter between she and the others becoming a regular occurrence. Convincing Varric to ride in the carriage with her so that she could ask questions about his books had been rather simple, as he wasn’t a fan of the horses the others rode. She couldn’t have imagined it would be comfortable, given he was a dwarf, and didn’t have as long of legs as the rest of them. It was nice to have someone to talk to, as, despite the outward appearance she presented, she was nervous about the new life she was stepping into.

Looking out the window as the carriage started up the path to the castle gates, Wynter felt her breath catch in her throat. The Winter Palace was grand, as was the Summer. But this... This was more than she’d ever dare dream.The first gate saw them crossing a long bridge that sat several hundred feet from the valley below. Her stomach fell as she realized just how high off the ground she was, forcing her to hold her breath until they reached the second gate. Letting herself relax as she saw the firm terrain rolling under the wheels, she found herself all too eager to leave the confines of her transport.

“Welcome to Skyhold, lady Wynter.” a young elven man said, offering her his hand.

“Thank you. This place is grand...” she remarked, taking in the thick stone walls.

Following the stone with her eyes, she realized the walls reached high into the sky, blocking out the sun in some places, while gifting it with light in others. The battlements were patrolled by guards armed with heavy bows and sturdy blades, reminding her that this was a military fortress, not a summer villa. Dropping the hood of her cloak from her head, she could hardly believe she was standing in such a magnificent courtyard.

“Lady Wynter, I presume?” a red headed woman asked, drawing her attention from her surroundings.

“Nightingale?” Wynter smiled, meeting the woman’s pale eyes.

“Have we met?”

“Long ago, when I was new to Lady Cerise’s household. It’s been ages.”

“You’re Lady Cerise’s even lass? How is she doing? I haven’t spoken to her in years.” Leliana smiled.

“She passed away when I was seventeen, nearly eight years ago now. I remember when you used to come and play for us. You have the voice of an angel.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. How have things been otherwise?” the woman asked, turning towards the stairs.

“Busy. The fashion in Orlais changes almost every day. To keep up with that, I’ve had to be adaptable. It’s your fault though. Had you not introduced me to it, I would have never taken an interest.” Wynter chuckled, following the woman.

Spending the remainder of their walk to Wynter’s chambers discussing all that went on in Orlais and Val Royeaux in particular, Wynter thanked the bard for leading her before closing the door. Turning to inspect her new home, she was pleased to discover she had a private kitchen, dining area, and bed chambers. Spotting a large, stone bath, she let out a relieved sigh. She would certainly be making use of the tub once she’d finished touring her new location. Stepping out into the shop area, she saw that her belongings had already been delivered and unpacked. Her spinning wheel sat nestled away in the far corner, while her loom was tucked neatly into the other. There was plenty of room for her wares to be displayed, as well as table to lay out patterns and cut fabric. A rush of excitement washed over her as she threaded her way through the bolts of fabric and spindles of thread, though it paled in comparison to the sensation she got as she saw people looking into her windows. She wasn’t quite ready to open, as she’d only just arrived. The thrill of new customers was nearly consuming however, and she offered the people outside a warm smile.

“I was going to offer to help you unpack, but it looks like someone beat me to it.” Varric said, sauntering her direction.

“How generous of you.” Wynter chuckled.

“That’s me, generous to a fault.” he laughed.”Skyhold is great, you’ll love it here. You’ll have to order the snails from Orlais, though. They don’t stock them here, as no one else will touch them.”

“Then I’d say it’s a good thing I don’t eat snails.” she chuckled. “The only creatures I eat with shells are crab and lobster. Getting them in Val Royeaux was difficult though, as they have to be kept alive for transport, as the meat will go bad otherwise. Most merchants don’t know how to do that, as they let the water get too cold, too hot, or just evaporate along the way. Did you ever get the chance to eat them in Kirkwall?”

“Not really. The few times they were prepared for me they tasted more like boot leather that’s been sitting at the bottom of the sea for the last three ages.”

“You haven’t had them cooked right. If I can get some in, I’ll show you what they’re supposed to taste like.” Wynter smiled.

“Well, good luck with that. I should...” he began, meeting her eyes.

Wynter couldn’t help but blush as the dwarf held her transfixed in his hazel eyes. She’d only known a few dwarves, all of them merchants in Val Royeaux. They came to buy goods several times a year to take to Orzammar and other cities, or bring her supplies like needles and replacement parts for her loom and spinning wheel. She’d rarely had the pleasure of just _speaking_ with one, as she had with Varric. He was intriguing to her, from the way he talked, to his manner of dress. His voice was full of life, and his body... The redness of her cheeks increased as she realized she’d been staring at him as though she’d like to devour him. She wasn’t an innocent, and from the way Varric carried himself, she knew he’d be a good lover.

“Well, if you’re done admiring my body, I’ll let you get to settling in. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of things to do besides fantasise about me.” Varric smirked.

“What makes you think I was admiring you? What if I was just trying to figure out why you can’t grow a beard?” Wynter retorted, smirking back at him.

“And hide these good looks with facial hair? Nah. Besides. The ladies love running their fingers through the dense curls on my chest. Admit it. You want to know what it feels like too.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Master Tethras. I’ve felt the finest wool from the best sheep and alpacas in Thedas. Your chest can hardly compare.”

“I think you’d be surprised, Mistress Wynter. Maybe I’ll let you find out for yourself one of these days.” Varric chuckled, letting himself out of her apartment.

Rolling her eyes, she sighed as she realized she actually _did_ want to know what it felt like. None of the men she’d tailored for had any hair on their chests, as they typically shaved it all off. The thought of running her fingers through Varric’s curls made her wonder just how far that hair went, and if it was all as soft as she was imagining it to be. Chiding herself for picturing the man naked, she turned toward her chambers and bolted the door. 

Deciding she needed a bath, she made her way to the marble tub and looked over the strange metal knobs that rest above it. She slowly turned the one on the left, arching her brow curiously as water poured from the spout between the two. Feeling the temperature, she quickly pulled her hand back at the heat that seared her fingers. Turning the other knob, she sighed as it cooled of the liquid. Adjusting it to the perfect temperature, she put the stopper in and removed her clothing. Sinking into the heated bath, she sighed appreciatively. Orlais may have had some of the finest luxuries in Thedas, but it all paled in comparison to the wonder she’d just discovered at Skyhold. Resting her head against the rim, she let the water soothe her weariness from the journey she’d made from Val Royeaux...


	4. Chapter 4

The days that followed saw the opening of her store, and a steady stream of customers. Wynter knew it was because she’d been a dress maker and seamstress in Orlais, and the people that came to Skyhold wanted a taste of that fashion, even if they couldn’t reach the city itself. She’d already sewn four shirts for men, and was working on two separate dresses. Smiling as the Inquisitor came in, she practically beamed as she heard the woman say she was marrying the Commander in secret, but wanted to look nice for the man. 

Helping her select the perfect material, Wynter then proceeded to show her sample patterns. Once Mariah had settled on something, she shooed the woman from the shop so that she could get to work. Cutting the fabric on her table, she then sat down to begin sewing. It was going to be a long night, as she wanted to get the dress done as quickly as she could. Given the stories she’d heard about the Inquisitor and the Commander, she was certain they wanted to marry as soon as possible. There was no telling how patient they could be, especially when they were as in love with one another as she was being made to believe. Hearing the bell to her door chime some time later, she set the dress aside and went to greet her customer. Smiling as she saw Varric, she quickly brushed off her skirt as she made her way over.

“Something I can do for you, Master Tethras?” she asked, meeting his warm hazel brown eyes.

“Just checking up on you. I’ve been rather busy lately, trying to keep Curly and the Inquisitor apart long enough for them to tie the knot. Not an easy task, given their obsession with putting their hands on one another in random places when they think no one is looking. How have you been?” he answered, looking around the shop.

“Busy, but that’s the way I like it. There’s really nothing else to do around here when I’m not working.”

“There’s plenty to do, you just haven’t seen it yet. Bull has nightly drinking games at the Herald’s Rest tavern, Dorian fusses over his lack of secrecy regarding their affair, Solas... Well. Chuckles does whatever it is he does when he’s not dreaming or stalking the Fade. There’s mischief with Sera, brooding with Blackwall, stabbing things with pointy objects with Cassandra, lurking creepily with Cole, hobnobbing with Josephine and Vivienne, spying with Leliana, or admiring me. Given you don’t seem like the type to participate much in any of the other activities, I’ll just stand here so you can stare at me a while.”

“What makes you think I don’t enjoy drinking? Or something like archery?”

“No offense, Snowflake, but you look a little too tiny to be able to handle your ale.” Varric chuckled. “And when would you have ever picked up a bow?”

“Snowflake?”

“Everyone has to have their nicknames. Bull is Tiny, Cullen is Curly, Solas is Chuckles... You get the idea.”

“What about you? Don’t you need a nickname as well?” she smirked.

“I have several, but I don’t expect anyone to call me ‘Lord of all handsomeness”, or most desireable.” Varric grinned.

“You flatter yourself, sir. You are not as handsome as you think.” she laughed.

“Oh, I don’t have to flatter myself, you did quite enough of that the other day. You weren’t exactly _subtle_ while you were ogling me.”

“I wasn’t ogling you, I was merely double checking the measurements for the extra shirts you ordered. I don’t need a tape to do that.”

“Speaking of tape, I’m in need of some new pants. The last venture to the bowels of hell we went to left my last pair looking a little ragged. Shall I step up on a stool for you?” he grinned.

“No, you’re quite fine there.” Wynter replied, grabbing her tape off the table. “What material were you thinking of?”

“I really like the feel of soft leather, as long as it’s breathable.”

“Rugged dwarf likes something _soft_? You sure you wouldn’t prefer in granite?” she teased.

“No, I have enough granite in my pants, thanks anyway.” he smirked.

“You... what?” she halted, looking up at him from where she’d moved to kneel before him.

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Snowflake. I’m pretty much a walking pile of stones. Solid muscle in every inch.” he chuckled.

“Very funny, dwarf.” she laughed, shaking her head. “Now, where does your inseam start?” she finished, feeling his inner thigh.

“A little to the right...”

“Here?” she asked, moving her tape where he’d directed.

Feeling his groin instead, she quickly withdrew her hand and glared up at him.

“What? I was just letting you get a feel for all that you were admiring the other day.” he snickered. “OW! What was that for?” he continued, rubbing his thigh where she’d pinched him.

“Just letting you get a feel for all that you’re in for when messing with me. Next time, I might even use a straight pin.” she returned, smirking.

“Fair enough.” he laughed, watching her work around him.

“I think I’ve got everything. I’ll need you to come back in a day or so to check the fit. Halla leather can be touchy, and I want to make sure I get it perfect. Any color you’d like it dyed?”

“Halla? I didn’t think you elves used halla because they’re sacred, or something like that.”

“They’re sacred to the _Dalish_. While I may have been _born_ Dalish, I don’t consider myself to be such. They sold me for grain because they thought I was a curse. The halla are supposed to be the embodiment of the goddess Ghilan'nain. While I find them particularly remarkable, I also know they have the softest leather in all of Thedas. If a merchant has some for sale, I’ll buy all that I can get my hands on.”

“That’s pretty low, even for the Dalish. Why would they sell you? What did your parents think?”

“My father died before I was born, and my mother became sick and died after a small band of darkspawn stumbled across our camp, so I didn’t have them to object. I’m ok with it, really. My life with Lady Cerese was far better than anything I would have had with my clan.”

“Most elves I’ve met wouldn’t see living under a noble to be all that great.”

“They didn’t have what I did. I may have been gifted to her to win favor for the merchant, but she was good to me. She treated me like her own child, and I was afforded every luxury as such. I stayed in the manor, not the alienage, and I was fed only the finest foods she could acquire. I dare say I was rather spoiled. Not something any _Dalish_ could say about their life.” she said, writing his measurements down. “Now, about that color...”

“I don’t know, I’m partial to red.”

“Ick, red is an _awful_ color.”

“How about dark blue, then? Maybe black?”

“I could do either, so long as you promised me you wouldn’t wear a _red_ shirt with them. It’s really not your color.”

“And just what _is_ my color?” Varric smirked.

“Blues are good, as are shades of dark green. I’d stay away from anything gold, as it would wash you out and make you look like someone urinated on you.”

“What about orange?”

“What an atrocious suggestion! I’d sooner see you in _red_ than that repulsive color. Orange is for people with darker complexions, like Lady Vivienne, not someone of your skin tone.

“Brown?”

“Brown is good, as it would accentuate your musculature. Depending on the shade, it could make you look bigger than you actually are.”

“I’d say I’m pretty big as is it is.” he teased.

“You’re _encorageable_!”

“That’s me, bad in all the right ways!” Varric chuckled. “Seriously though. You know you wouldn’t be as fond of me if I wasn’t.”

“I am _not_ fond of you.”

“Oh? Than why are your eyes locked on my...”

“I have what I need, Master Tethras. I bid you good day, I have work to do.” she interrupted, turning her back to him.

His laughter was irritating as he let himself out. She couldn’t understand what it was about him that made her feel... agitated. He bothered her in a way she’d never been before, which only frustrated her further. Returning to Mariah’s dress, she fussed about their encounter, pricking herself with the needle on more than one occasion. Setting the gown down on the table rather aggressively, she got up to make herself a pot of tea.Burning her hand on the stove, she cursed loudly before sticking her hand in a bowl of cool water.

“Damn dwarf...” she chided herself.

Getting a little balm, she gently massaged it into her hand, letting it take the burn away. Returning to her sewing, she sipped at her tea as the day wound into night. Stretching her petite form, she set the dress aside and got to her feet. Closing up her shop, she made sure everything was locked up tight before returning to her apartment. Filling her tub with water, she peeled off her clothing and slipped in. Sighing, she rest her head against the rim and closed her eyes.

“_I don’t have to flatter myself, you did quite enough of that the other day. You weren’t exactly _subtle_ while you were ogling me..._” Varric’s voice drifted through her mind. “_A little to the right..._”

Growling in frustration, Wynter grabbed her soaps and scrubbed vigorously at her skin. So much so, in fact, that she was more than a little red and raw, particularly on her arms.Cursing again as she realized what she’d done, she quickly washed her long, shimmering white hair before rinsing off. Stepping from the bath, she wrapped herself in a towel and went for her lotions. Applying them to her tender skin, she then dressed for bed and crawled between the sheets. Looking up at her ceiling, she found her thoughts returning once again the the dwarf. Cursing under her breath, she rolled over to face the wall, hoping it would somehow remove the man from her mind and let her rest.

Feeling her eyes open in the gray, pre dawn light of morning, Wynter groaned and pulled the covers back over her head. She didn’t get much sleep that night, and what little she’d managed had been filled with various dreams of Varric. She moaned as she remembered the dress for the Inquisitor, as there was still quite a bit to be done before it was finished. Flinging the blankets off rather aggressively, she forced herself out of the comfort of her bed and onto the cold floor of her room. 

Rubbing the chill from her arms, she padded softly to the hearth and lit a warm fire. Starting her breakfast, she let her thoughts drift back to part of the conversation she’d had with Varric the previous day. At least, the part where he _wasn’t_ trying to fluster her. She recalled talking about archery, something she honestly knew nothing about, and found herself wondering if she might find someone willing to tutor her. There were plenty of men and women in Skyhold with the skill, especially given their positions on the battlements. She wasn’t sure she’d _like_ the sport, but it would at least be better than trying to kill herself in a tavern competing with a man ten times her size in a drinking contest. Since she had no interest in learning to use a sword, she thought perhaps practicing with a bow might be a good use of her extra time.

Eating quickly, she was soon seated back at her sewing, arranging the remaining pieces so they would be easy to grab when she was ready for them. Looking up as she heard the bell to her shop ring, she set the dress aside and brushed herself off. Almost expecting Varric to have returned to torment her, she smiled warmly as she watched the Commander and Dorian moving about the shop.

“Good morning, gentlemen. What can I assist you with?” she asked, meeting their eyes in turn.

“A glorious day to you, Lady Wynter. Our dear Commander needs something to wear for his bride to be, and since I _can’t_ let the man go in what he has on, I’m bringing him to you. Work your magic, my dear.” Dorian replied, beaming at her.

“And just _what_ is wrong with what I have on?” Cullen groused.

“Was that a _serious_ question, Commander?” Wynter snickered, pulling off his surcoat.

“Our dear Commander has no sense of fashion. I trust he’s in capable hands.” Dorian smiled becomingly.

“Never fear, Lord Pauvus. I’ll have the Commander in top order before you know it.” Wynter grinned, pulling off the armor.

“Andraste, preserve me! I can take off my own armor!” he growled, pulling the heavy plate on his chest from her hands.

Folding her arms across her chest, Wynter waited as patiently as she was able while he removed the remaining metal from his body. Taking his measurements, she then showed Dorian some samples, giving him time to look them over before nodding as he selected the one that would best fit the man that would be wearing it.

“This will go _splendidly_ with her dress.” Wynter grinned.

“I can hardly wait.” Dorian smiled.

“_You_ don’t have to.” Wynter smirked, pulling the man back to where she worked on the dress.

“Magnificent! I’m sure Mariah is going to look _ravishing_ in it. You truly are a treasure, Lady Wynter.” Dorian praised.

“You’re too kind, Lord Pauvus.” Wynter replied, gathering the material he’d chosen.

Shooing the men from the shop once Dorian had purchased several shirts for himself, she returned to the dress and quickly added the remaining pieces. Sewing the attire for the Commander had been easier, as men’s clothing usually took less time as a general rule. Sending a messenger to both Dorian and Mariah, she couldn’t restrain the groan that welled up at the appearance of the annoying dwarf.

“Heard you had Torch’s dress done. I’m here to pick it up for her.” he smirked.

“You’re not a very good liar, Master Tethras. You seek out every opportunity to visit me that you can imagine, hoping that perhaps you might score a victory in another battle of wits. You’d have a better chance if you actually came _armed_.” she teased, turning toward the cloth bag she’d put the dress in. “Be careful with it, it’s very delicate.”

“I’m not going to take it to the tavern for drinks, Snowflake.” Varric chuckled. “And how do you know I’m not saving up my talents for a better fight?”

“Oh, it’s not hard...”

“That _you_ know of...”

“Master Tethras! Must _everything_ be sexual with you?”

“Have you _seen_ the people I hang out with? The only reason Tiny and Sparkler aren’t as bad as Torch and Curly is because Dorian actually prefers to keep as much behind closed doors as he possibly can. Cullen and Mariah? It’s like a marathon of endless tension they’re trying to run. They don’t care who hears them howling at the moon together.”Varric chuckled.

“That’s your problem, then, isn’t it. Everyone is acting like rabbits in heat, and you’re left with no one to play with.” she smirked.

“Why do you think I keep coming back? I need an escape from all that... rabbityness. Besides. Where would you be without me?” he laughed.

“Well, I could think of a _few_ places...” she chuckled.

“But they wouldn’t be as fun.” he grinned. “I should get this dress to her Inquisatorialness. The sooner those two are left alone to scream in each other’s arms, the better.”

Laughing as she watched him walk out, she closed the door gently behind him. If she were honest with herself, she too would like someone to keep her warm when the nights were cold. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man, since before he was killed when the Empress burned the Halamshiral alienage. It wasn’t because of lack of offers, as she’d had plenty, being a seamstress in Val Royeaux. She craved more than a good roll in the furs, however. She liked her partner to have _substance_, not just a pretty face.

“_Varric has substance, and with all that gorgeous, thick hair that you _aren’t_ seeing, he’d surely keep us warm at night..._” her mind added.

“Oh, stop, you foolish girl. You hardly know the man.” she chided herself.

Shaking herself mentally, she returned to her sewing. Pants for a dwarf were easy enough, but when made of soft leather... She would have to come face to face with him... “_And his muscles..._” her mind added. If she were to make sure the fit was perfect. If she was to be honest with herself, she actually enjoyed the banter. She would have to sharpen her rapier wits if she were to continue matching blades with him, but it was a challenge she was all too eager to face...


	5. Chapter 5

Being invited to the wedding wasn’t something she was expecting, but as the invitation came, Wynter found she couldn’t wait to see the Commander’s face as he gazed upon the dress she’d made for his bride. She wasn’t disappointed, as the gasp he emitted as his eyes fell upon the Inquisitor was exactly what she was hoping for. It gave her great pride to know her work was appreciated as much as it was, which only made her want to create even more wonderful new clothing for her customers.

Catching the smirk Varric was giving her as he stood quietly behind the Inquisitor, Wynter rolled her eyes. Making her exit as soon as she was able, she tried to reach the safety of her shop before the dwarf could catch up with her. Hearing him call out to her, she sighed before turning to face him with a smile.

“What’s your hurry, Snowflake?” he asked, beaming brightly at her.

“I had to make an escape before they started, ugh, _kissing_. I don’t mind public displays of affection, but a woman has her limits. What’s your excuse?” she teased.

“I practically _live_ with Mariah. I don’t need to see all that gushiness here at Skyhold too. She’s bad enough on the road.” Varric chuckled. “Want to go get a drink at the tavern? My treat.”

“I suppose a drink might be nice. It would be good to take a break from all that sewing for a change.” she smiled.

“Bless my soul, I’m growing on you.” he smirked.

“Like fungus.” she laughed.

“You know, the Seeker said that about me too. Must be something in the water.”

“Or it’s just you.”

“You may be right.” he laughed, holding the door open for her.

Stepping into the tavern, Wynter immediately felt the change in atmosphere. It was more relaxed in here, with several of the patrons telling wild stories that couldn’t possibly be true. Hearing Bull call out to Varric, she fell into step beside him as he made his way over to the Qunari’s table. Taking the seat the dwarf pulled out for her, she scooted it in as he then went on to order her a drink.

“What’s this supposed to be?” she asked, looking at the frothy beverage before her.

“It’s Chasined Sack Mead.” Bull replied. “You’ll like it, drink up.”

Taking the first swig made her throat feel as though it was on fire. It wasn’t from the strength of the alcohol, as she’d had wine that was far more potent. It was whatever had been added to make it bubbly. Blushing as she let out a small belch, she quickly covered her mouth to hide the few that followed. Setting the mug down, she turned her attention to the man at Bull’s right, whom he introduced as Krem. Offering the man a warm smile, she felt her belly flip a little as it was easily returned. Letting her eyes fall back on Varric as he was called to tell them a story, she wondered which tale the man would relate.

“Let me tell you the tale of an impossibly handsome dwarf who, alongside his brother, went on to save the world.” he began.

Finding herself entranced by the tale, Wynter listened as the dwarf proceeded to relate part of his first book, The Dasher’s Men’ to the gathering crowd. It was one she’d never heard of before, but, from what Varric was sharing, she knew she had to find and read in its entirety. Laughing with the people as he continued with other adventures of mischief of one kind or another, she found herself wondering if there was anything the dwarf _didn’t_ do.

“You ok there, Snowflake?” Varric asked several hours later.

“I think I should get home. It’s quite late, and I have a great deal of work to do in the morning.” she answered, getting slowly to her feet.

Grabbing the barstool as she began losing her balance, she took several deep breaths to try and steady herself. Walking slowly towards the door, she wondered how she’d ever managed to let the dwarf talk her into going for a drink. He was right about one thing, however. She’d never be able to stand up to the likes of a fly when it came to holding her drink. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she turned to see the man smiling warmly at her.

“Think I should probably walk you home, given you’re not terribly stable on your feet right now.” he smirked.

“I can manage just fine on my own, Master Tethras.” she said, trying to keep from stumbling the next few steps she took.

“Sure, Snowflake. And I’m the King of Ferelden.”

“You’re a little short to be a King, don’t you think?” she teased.

“Not where it matters most.” he chuckled.

Feeling him wrap his arm around her waist, she made the journey slowly to her apartment with him at her side. They must have looked the pair, as they were both swaying as they tried to keep each other steady. Stopping outside the door, she took the key from her pocket and stared at the entrance. Biting her lip, she turned to face the dwarf.

“I had a really nice time, thanks for inviting me.” she said.

“The pleasure was all mine.” he replied, bowing slightly.

Blinking in surprise as he pulled her close for a kiss, she could do little more than stare at him as he turned to walk away. Her cheeks were reddened by the experience, and her heart fluttered excitedly in her chest. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her, and she found herself wondering why. Licking her lips slowly, she turned back to the door and inserted the key. Locking the apartment behind her, she made her way to her room and sat lightly on her bed. Her mind replayed the kiss several times as she readied herself for bed, slipping between her sheets as it did.

Waking the next morning to a pounding in her skull, Wynter rose slowly and went for a pot of tea. She’d learned of a remedy to help one that was hung over from Lady Cerise, as the woman would sometimes overindulge during the soires she would host, if the mood was merry enough. Sipping the hot brew once it had properly steeped, she let out a sigh of relief before starting herself some breakfast. She wasn’t a great cook, but in the years since Lady Cerise had passed away, she’d had to learn to take care of herself. Making herself some eggs and toast, she ate quickly so that she could return to her projects.

Flipping the shop sign to ‘open’ once she’d finished eating, she smiled brightly as Dorian made his way through the door.

“Good morning, Lord Pavus. What can I do for you today?” she asked cheerily.

“Please, dear woman. Call me ‘Dorian’.” he replied happily.

“As you wish. How may I help you?”

“I came to see if there was something special you could make for me. My rather large other half seems to think that clothing is optional, and tends to tear things in the heat of the moment. I was hoping you could make something a little more... indestructible.”

“Enchanted silken smallclothes? That’s a first.” she smirked in reply.

“Yes, well. It’s better than having to have you constantly replace them.”

“I don’t mind, as it keeps me busy.”

“Speaking of busy...” Dorian said, lowering his voice, “A little birdie told me you have an interest in a certain dwarven author. That he was even seen bestowing you with a good night kiss.”

“Don’t be absurd. You know how people love to gossip.” she replied, trying to hide the blush in her cheeks. “Besides. What do either of us have in common with one another? We’d be a poor match.”

“Differences make good sparks, trust me. You and the dwarf might just have more in common than you think, dear woman. Don’t discount the possibility just yet...”

Shaking her head, she watched as the mage let himself out of her shop. The very idea that she and Varric would have anything in common that didn’t involve banter was preposterous.

“_Oh, I don’t have to flatter myself, you did quite enough of that the other day. You weren’t exactly _subtle_ while you were ogling me.”_

Growling as his words flitted through her mind, Wynter felt the frustration that always came with the dwarf’s presence. To make things worse, she was nearly finished with his first pair of pants, which meant that she would once again be forced to deal with the man as she made sure the fit was right. At least it would only be this one time...

“_But you like the dwarf... Remember the kiss?_” her mind echoed. 

“It wasn’t even that _good_ of a kiss.” she muttered.

“_Then why are you blushing?_”

Growling again, Wynter was so irritated with herself that she pricked herself with her long leather needle. Cursing herself for her lack of attention, she sucked the tip briefly to get it to stop bleeding. Forcing her mind to focus on her work, she was soon lost in the leather that rest upon her lap. Hearing the bell chime some time later, she set her sewing aside and went to greet her customer. Offering Varric a warm smile as he made his way toward her, she thought his timing was close to perfect.

“I was just going to send a messenger to tell you I’ve got this first pair of pants finished.” she stated.

“What can I say, I have an innate ability to tell when my presence is needed.” he smirked.

Motioning for him to follow her, she had him step up on the stool once he’d pulled the pants on behind the dressing screen. Checking the hem, she pinned it in place so that she could sew it where it needed to be.

“I wanted to talk about last night, if it’s ok.” he said slowly.

“Oh?” she asked, working around his pants.

“I hope you’re not angry with me about that kiss... I don’t know what came over me last night.

“Is that what that was? I couldn’t be sure.” she teased.

“I can do better, that was just spur of the moment.” he chuckled.

“Why _did_ you kiss me?”

“I don’t know, you just looked like you needed a good kiss.”

“If _that’s_ what you call a good kiss, I think you need lessons.” she chuckled.

“Oh? Will you be the one to teach me then?”

“What makes you think I want to kiss you again?”

Looking up as his hand cupped her chin, she felt her heart flutter excitedly. She couldn’t be sure if it was because she actually _wanted_ to kiss him again, or if it was merely the thrill of trying something new that was affecting her the way it was. Deciding it was the latter, she offered Varric a warm smile before backing slowly away.

“You’ll have to try harder than that, my flirtatious friend. I do not give myself away so easily.” she chuckled.

“Is that a challenge, Lady Wynter?” he smirked.

“If that’s how you wish to perceive it, Master Tethras.”

“And the gauntlet has been thrown down.” he laughed.

Finishing pinning the hem, she waited until he’d removed the pants before taking them back to her sewing chair. Meeting his eyes as he came over, she listened as he spoke next.

“So, last night was proof enough that you aren’t much for drinking, which brings me to my next offer. I know I don’t have a lot of time, but if you’d like, I can help you learn how to use a bow. Not that you’d ever have reason to, just something to help you pass some of that free time you have so much of.”

“That could be fun, so long as you don’t tease me for being so poor at it.”

“I would never tease you, dear woman.”

“Says the man who makes it a point to visit me for just such sport.” Wynter chuckled.

“You’d be bored within an hour if I didn’t.” Varric smirked.

“Or I might actually get something done. You’re quite distracting, after all.”

“I aim to please, Lady Wynter.” he laughed, bowing before her. “Meet my by the throne in an hour. We’ll need to get you fitted for a bow.”

Nodding her head, Wynter watched as he let himself out of the shop. She didn’t understand why she had to be fitted for a bow. She’d thought that one would work for everyone, though Varric had implied that wasn’t the case. Returning her attention to the dwarf’s pants, she actually felt genuine excitement at the thought of learning something new, even if Varric was the man to give her instructions.


	6. Chapter 6

Finishing the stitching on Varric’s pants, Wynter made her way to the Inquisitor’s throne in the main hall. Following the dwarf into the undercroft, she smiled warmly at Master Harrit and another dwarf named Dagna. The two bantered as they set themselves to working on her bow, which, after Varric made suggestions on materials, was done rather quickly. Slipping on the wrist guard she was handed, she felt a little excited to fire the weapon for the first time.

Making her way to the firing range with the dwarf, she felt a tingle in her belly as he moved behind her to position her arms for correct aiming. His breath was warm on her neck, and she felt her whole body responding to his presence. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw that he too was momentarily distracted by the softness of her hair against his cheek. Offering him a bright smile, she couldn’t resist the urge to tease him about it.

“I didn’t know smelling my hair was part of the lesson.” she smirked. “Then again, it _does_ smell nice. I can’t fault you for wanting to see for yourself. It’s incredibly soft, too. You should touch it.”

“What?” Varric asked absently, letting a lock of silky white hair slip through his fingers.

Laughing musically, she watched the embarrassment play briefly over his handsomely rugged features before he cleared his throat.

“You should... Probably pin your hair up next time. Wouldn’t want it to get caught in the string...” he replied softly.

“Would it be less of a distraction to you?”

“What? Oh... yeah.”

“If that is what you wish, Master Tethras.”

Slipping her bow between her knees, Wynter proceeded to quickly braid her hair before pulling it up and securing it with a smaller braided lock that she’d left loose for that purpose. Taking her bow back in hand once it was out of the way, she once again let Varric position her to fire the weapon. The first several attempts saw the bowstring slapping her arm, to which she was grateful she had the guard there, else she’d have some nasty welts. As it was, her arms began aching after only a short while, forcing her to stop for the time being.

“Let’s take a break.” Varric said, taking her bow.

“I’m just _awful_.” she sighed, rolling her shoulders.

“You did good for your first time. Most people wouldn’t have hit the dummy as many times as you did.” he smirked.

“Sure, the groin, the knee, the elbow... _really_ effective there.” she chuckled.

“I don’t know, shooting someone in the groin is an effective way of stopping them. Most people wouldn’t be able to keep moving after a hit like that.” he laughed.

“Ah, but really _good_ archers hit their targets _on purpose_. Mine have all been purely accidental.” she laughed with him.

“That’ll change with practice.” he smirked. “You ready to try again?”

Nodding her head, Wynter raised her bow and prepared to take aim. Glancing at Varric as he stood beside her, she couldn’t help but feel the heat of his presence as it slid over her chilled skin.

“The key is to sight along the arrow. Use it like a straight line to your target. I’ll teach you to compensate for distance and wind once you feel more comfortable with the basics. Now, draw in a breath, and let it out slowly as you loose the arrow. Keep both eyes open so you can still see your target.”

Doing as he said, Wynter fired the arrow, watching as it made straight for the dummy. Blinking in surprise as it hit the center of what would have been the chest, she squealed excitedly and spun to face the dwarf.

“That was perfect, Snowflake. Now, do it just like that every time.” Varric grinned.

Smiling back at the man, Wynter turned her attention to the dummy, firing several more times in the course of the afternoon. Her aim wasn’t great, but at least she was hitting the dummy, rather than the tree beside it. It would take years to be as good as Varric, but as long as he was willing to work with her, she was willing to put in the effort it would take.

“You did good, Snowflake. You only missed the mark a lot of the time. Still, you at least hit the dummy more times than naught.” Varric smiled. “You’re going to want to get a salve for your arms. The muscles are going to be achy for some time, until you get used to firing your bow.”

Nodding her head, Wynter took the targeting arrows Varric had collected and slipped them back into her quiver. Slinging it over her back, she walked with him to one of the market stalls that sold the kind of salve he recommended. Purchasing several jars, she then made her way back to her apartment and set them on the table.

“Here, let me help you.” Varric said, moving her dress to expose the snowy skin of her upper back and shoulders.

His hands were rough and calloused, though felt scintillating on the flesh of her back. The dextrous fingers worked the salve into muscles that had not yet begun to ache, leaving her head spinning at the sensations now washing over her. Unable to restrain the moan that escaped her lips, she heard Varric laugh as he moved up toward her neck.

“You keep going like that and I’ll be putty in your hands.” she said softly.

“You already are. Melting like fresh snow on a hot day...” he chuckled.

“Your touch is magnificent... Wherever did you learn such a technique?”

“A gentleman never reveals his secrets.”

“A gentleman, are you?” she asked, turning slightly to face him.

The light on her pale skin almost made her appear to glow a soft golden color. Her icy eyes had turned a soft shade of lilac, and her heart beat visibly in the slender column of her neck. She could tell her current appearance was affecting Varric, as his breath caught in his throat as he stared at her. Offering him a warm smile, she reached out to touch his stubbled cheek with a delicate finger.

“And what might a gentleman do with a woman so soft in his hands?” she smirked.

“I’m no gentleman.” he laughed.

“Isn’t that what you just said though?” she smiled.

“Did I say that? Huh... I’m _definitely_ not a gentleman.” he chuckled.

“So? What then, pray tell, would you do with a woman like me?” she teased.

“Probably something stupid...” he said softly, leaning over to taste her lips once again.

The kiss was far superior to the one he’d given her the night before, full of passion and rich with need. Whimpering softly, she felt his body grow tense as he held her. Licking her lips as he broke off the kiss, she met his eyes as he stared longing at her.

“I... I’m sorry.” he breathed heavily.

“I’m not.” she replied softly.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he chuckled.

Closing her eyes as he lightly ran the back of his rough fingers along her cheek. Meeting his steady gaze as he lowered his hand, she offered him a warm smile.

“You’re so beautiful, Snowflake. You probably hear that from all the boys though.” he smiled softly. “I should... probably get back. The Inquisitor and I have an early morning, and she gets really grumpy if anyone isn’t ready to go before the ass crack of dawn.” he said regretfully.

“When are you scheduled to return?”

“Who knows how long it will take us this trip around.”

“Where are you headed, if I may ask.”

“We’re going to the Exalted Plains in a desperate attempt to find some of the missing soldiers from the Orlesian civil war. By the Emperor’s request, I might add. Andraste knows he wouldn’t be able to find them with his own people.” Varric smirked.

Turning away at the mention of the Plains, she felt a twinge of regret. She didn’t consider herself Dalish, despite being born into a clan, yet still felt great sorrow for the place the elves had suffered so greatly at the hands of the soldiers of the Divine. The Chantry didn’t like anyone believing in anything but the Maker, which bore contention between them and the elves. Eventually, that contention reached a breaking point, and the Chantry people sought to wipe out the elves entirely. The Exalted Plains had been destroyed in the process, leaving much of the land barren and stripped of its valuable resources.

“You ok there, Snowflake?” Varric asked, drawing her attention back to the conversation they were previously having.

“I’m fine, why do you ask?” she smiled.

“You got that look in your eyes that says you were lost deep in thought.”

“I was just thinking about the history of the Dirth, that’s all.” she answered.

“The Dirth?”

“Dirthavaren, the land of promise given to the elves by Andraste for their aid in the war against Tevinter. It was the location of an Exalted March because the elves chose to worship their own gods, and not the Maker. There was a great deal of fighting, in which the elves were driven from their land or slain.”

“Shit, that’s right. They got a pretty raw deal, that’s for sure.”

“Indeed they did. It’s the biggest reason most elves despise humans, and avoid the Chantry at all costs.”

“What about you?”

“I understand their anger, and can sympathize with them. What’s done is done, however. Nothing anyone says or does can rewrite history. All we can do is move forward and try to foster an understanding with one another.”

“Wise words. Now if only everyone else saw things that way.”

“Shall I wait for you to return to continue with my lessons?” she said, changing the subject as she got to her feet.

“Not unless you want to. Just... find someone that knows what they’re doing to act as a spotter for you if you decide to keep practicing. I’d hate to see you get hurt because they weren’t paying attention.” he grinned. “I’ll look back in on you when I get back.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Master Tethras.” she chuckled.

Walking him to the door, she bolted it behind him before closing the rest of her shop for the night. She was beginning to feel the ache he’d warned her of, and picked up the jar of salve. Removing her dress, she rubbed the poultice into the muscles of her shoulders and arms. Closing the lid once she’d used what she needed, she changed her clothing into something far less restrictive and made her way to the dining hall. She’d never really taken time to eat with anyone else in Skyhold, fearing they’d either stare or make rude and snide comments. Feeling the eyes of every person in the room turn as she entered, she felt she’d made a mistake in coming.

Deciding not to take her supper there, Wynter made for the tavern instead. Taking a seat in the far corner, she ordered herself a bowl of stew. It was warm and hearty, just what she was looking for in that moment.Finishing her meal, she hurriedly made her way back to her apartment. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she picked up the latest copy of Hard in Hightown and settled herself on the sofa. It was a good book, and very well written. She wouldn’t expect less of the author, given his colorful attention to detail. Smiling, she could almost hear him speaking the words as she read them. 

Closing the book well after midnight, Wynter yawned and got to her feet. Setting the book on her nightstand, she changed into a nightshirt and slipped between the covers. Blowing out the candle, she found her thoughts turning to the dwarf. He was beginning to infect her thoughts, something she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. It had been years since she’d had a man in her life, as he’d been killed in the fire the Empress had ordered on the Halamshiral alienage. She wasn’t sure she was ready to move passed that, despite the fact that she craved a man’s attention. She felt as though she was starving for it.

Deciding that was the reason she was being drawn to Varric, she knew she’d have to be more vigilant about their proximity to one another. She didn’t _mind_ kissing him, but was it because she craved affection from anyone willing to give it to her, or was she genuinely interested in the dwarf? Growling as she rolled over, she tried to push thoughts of the man from her mind.

“_He’s smart, good company, fun to be with, charming, ruggedly handsome, and his kisses are positively sinful. You know it’s more than physical attraction..._” her brain added. “_Though, you can’t deny you liked the feeling of his calloused hands on your soft skin..._”

“Oh, shut it, you.” she replied to herself.

Fluffing her pillow a little more forcefully than she’d intended, she growled as she was soon showered with feathers. Folding the tear beneath the pillow, she rolled over and stared at the wall. She tried to force herself to sleep, though the minute her eyes closed, she was plagued by visions of the dwarf. Chiding herself again, she wondered if she would get any rest at all that night...


	7. Chapter 7

The days that followed saw Wynter aching from her afternoon of practice with Varric, so much so that she was unable to even draw her bow. Lady Vivienne was kind to her however, and used her magic to gently soothe the tenderness of her arms and shoulders.

“Whatever made you think you needed to use a bow anyway? You’re pretty enough that men and women would gladly go to war for you, my dear.” Vivienne said, sipping her glass of wine one afternoon. “Besides. Didn’t Lady Cherise have you tutored in music and dancing? _Far_ more useful skills than archery, my dear.”

“You flatter me, Lady Vivienne, and yes, she did. In all honesty, I was merely looking for a way to pass the free time I find myself with most afternoons. Archery is a noble sport, after all, and I was simply wishing to learn the skill.” Wynter replied, smiling warmly.

“Surely you can do better than that dwarf, my dear. I’m sure there are plenty of men and women in Orlais that would jump at the chance to teach you.”

“Ah, but we’re not presently in Orlais. Besides. Varric is fun to match wits with, especially when I can catch him off guard.” she smirked.

“I suppose I understand. He is, at least, of noble birth. It’s not like you’re slumming with that Sera. Not that he _acts_ like it.”

“She and I don’t get along simply because of the shape of my ears, among other things. Still, her Red Jennies were more than helpful some years back when I had a Lord Harmon causing me some grief. I was most grateful for their intervention.”

“I hear the Inquisitor dealt with him on a rather permanent basis. Stripped him of land and title for the mess he caused in Verchiel.”

“Indeed. He was involved in some rather unscrupulous behaviors. Why some men think they can take what they want from women without thought to what the woman wants is beyond me.”

“I’m afraid I’ve stolen enough of your time, my dear. I do rather enjoy gossiping with you, however, so do expect a return visit at a later date.” Vivienne said as she got to her feet. “You’ll want to take a long, hot bath before bed tonight. It’ll help loosen the muscles and relax you enough to sleep.”

Walking the former First Enchanter to the door, she closed it softly behind the woman. She was grateful for the company of so important a guest, though even she had her limits when it came to dealing with Orlesian nobility. Some were pleasant enough, while others were most definitely not. Vivienne could go either way, depending on her mood, which often made dealing with the woman tiring at best. This time wasn’t bad however, and she had taken the time to heal her aching limbs.

Running water for her bath later that evening as instructed, Wynter slipped into the hot water and sighed in relief. It had been days since she’d had any respite from the aches she’d acquired while learning to fire a bow, and she was grateful for the reprieve. Resting her head against the rim of the tub, she replayed the conversation with Vivienne in her mind. She didn’t completely _disapprove_ of Varric, though it was solely because the man was himself of noble birth. She knew the woman would prefer to see her with someone in the Orlesian court, though there couldn’t really be much there for her other than the role of ‘Mistress’. Elves couldn’t inherit a noble title, after all. At least, not in _Orlais_.

Smiling to herself, she knew that there were places in both Ferelden and Kirkwall that allowed an elf to hold a title, with the latter being more willing to accept such than the former. Varric was from Kirkwall, and had spoken to her on more than one occasion about his home in the many times they’d spent time together. Then again, the Hero of Ferelden had been an elven mage, and the King had turned her out at the Landsmeet for fear the country wouldn’t accept her as their Queen. She went on to end the Blight, though it had taken the woman’s life to do so. She wondered if the King ever thought about her, given it had been more than ten years ago now...

The days that followed saw Wynter at the archery range as often as she was able. She wasn’t sure when Varric would return, but she wanted to show him she was getting better. Or at least, _trying_ to get better. Smiling as she saw him making his way into the courtyard one afternoon, she found she couldn’t wait to show him how much better she was doing since that first day. He looked more than a little tired however, and she knew she’d have to wait until he was well rested. Returning to her sewing for the time being, she felt herself growing excited for the dwarf to come visit, if only so that she might engage in their typical playful banter.

When he hadn’t shown up by that evening, she decided to close shop and go look for him. Finding him at the tavern, she saw the deep and brooding look in his eyes and thought perhaps he wanted to be alone. Smiling as he flagged her over, she moved to the stool beside him and rest lightly upon it.

“Here. Have a drink.” he said, pushing a tankard of ale towards her.

“Thank you kindly.” she replied, taking a small drink. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m brooding, that’s all.”

“You’re very good at it. I can many a lass swooning as their eyes fall upon you.” she teased.

The small smirk he gave her wasn’t enough to convince her all was as he wished it, and she gently lay a hand on his shoulder.

“You know you can tell me anything.” she offered.

“It’s just... Bianca...”

“Bianca? The dwarf you’ve spoken at length about”

“I’ve known her for years. She and I were... _together_... until her family married her off to a boy they picked out for her. They’re Kalnas... Surface dwarves so mired in tradition they don’t take a piss without first consulting the ancestors... Instead of meeting me where we’d planned... We were going to disappear... Leave our lives and families behind and start a new life together... We kept in touch over the years, so when she showed up here a few weeks ago, I thought it was to get together, like we normally did. Instead, she told me about some humans carting off red lyrium like it was candy. I went with the Inquisitor to stop it, only to learn she’d used me. Again. _She_ was the one that had given access to one of Corypheus’ cronies, who then let that shit out like a clogged sewage drain.”

“I’m so sorry, Varric.”

“Don’t be. It was ages ago. But it’s my stupidity that got us into this mess, thinking she’d somehow changed...”

“You’re not responsible for the things she’s done, Varric.”

“I gave her the thaig. I told her where I’d found the shit, and she turned around and gave the information to a guy working for Corypheus! I can’t see how this _isn’t_ my fault.”

“You had no idea what she was going to do with the information, so stop blaming yourself. _She’s_ the one the Inquisitor needs to hold accountable for her actions, not you.”

“You’ve got a good heart, Snowflake. Thanks.”

“Do you think you’ll ever see her again after all this?”

“No, I’m done with her and her lies. It’s high time I moved on.”

“Sounds like it is.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Any bad ex lovers you regret?”

“There was one man who put something in my wine that got me so drunk that when I woke up to him the next morning, I would rather have chewed my own arm off rather than risk waking him by pulling it out from under him, if that counts.” she laughed. “Fortunately, I’d ended up in his room, not mine.”

“That _definitely_ counts.” Varric chuckled. “I should... probably go sleep this off. The Inquisitor wants to head out again in the morning. Care to walk me to my room?”

“Too drunk to find it on your own?” Wynter teased.

“Hardly. I just wanted the company of a beautiful lady to inspire a good night’s rest.” Varric smirked.

“That’s a terrible pick up line, Master Tethras.”

“I suppose it was.” he laughed.

Walking with him to his chambers, Wynter watched as he fumbled in his pocket for the key. His struggle continued until she finally took the key from him, inserting it into the lock.

“You always have a hard time putting your key in the lock?” she teased.

“Why don’t you come in and find out for yourself.” he replied, opening the door for her.

Stepping in, Wynter saw the brief surprise play over his handsome features before he cleared his throat and locked the door behind her.

“Keeping me in now, Master Tethras?” she grinned.

“It’s late. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be out alone after dark. Ruffians abound where the shadows fall.” he smirked.

“So, what then, am I to do, pray tell?”

“I’m sure I can think of something.” he answered, his voice deep and full of need.

Letting him pull her into his arms, Wynter moaned as he brought his lips over hers. His body was hard all over, melting her with the intensity of his radiating heat. Gasping as his hand cupped her bottom, she whimpered as he then proceeded to lift her leg slightly around his waist. Letting her hands find the hem of his shirt, she hesitated only a moment before pulling it over his head. Moving towards his bed with him, she felt her heart beating excitedly in her chest. Swallowing as his hands worked the buttons on her shirt, she felt the cool night air caress her pale skin as it drifted in through the open window.

Her head swam as Varric cupped one of her breasts, laying her back against the pillows as he did so. Unlacing the ties of his pants, Wynter used her now bare feet to move them down his legs and off. Lifting her body enough to remove her skirt, she felt Varric hesitate as he caressed her neck and collar bone. Locking her ankles behind him, she then cupped his bottom before pulling him toward her. The tip of his manhood rest just inside her core, and she wanted more.

“Oh, Varric... Don’t stop...” she breathed in his ear, nipping the lobe.

“Are you sure, Snowflake?” he replied softly, caressing her neck.

“I want you, Varric...”

Gasping as he slid himself within her, she hadn’t realized he was bigger than she’d expected until he was fully encased in her heat. Moaning as she held him, she arched her body to give him deeper access to her core.

“I love the feel of you surrounding me, Snowflake...” Varric growled, moving slowly within her.

“Make love to me, Varric...” she purred, rocking against him.

“As the Lady wants.” he replied.

Sharing herself fully with him, Wynter found herself wondering why she’d not sought him out sooner. He was an attentive lover, listening to her direction on what pleased her most. Feeling her body nearing release, she called his name before biting his shoulder. That served to arouse him more, causing his thrusting to become more heated. His teeth on her throat drove her to another climax, making her head spin as stars danced before her eyes. His first release soon followed, though the fire between them had only just begun.

Rolling with him as he turned to lay on his back, Wynter found the new angle bringing him deeper within her. Rocking against him as he drove into her core, she was soon shattering as another release crashed over her in tremendous waves. Her body responded to his in ways she’d never dreamed possible, and loved every breathtaking moment of it. Making love to Varric was more than she’d dare dream, and as the night crept slowly into the hours before dawn, she snuggled into the arms that held her close.

The early morning light burned her eyes as she came awake. Furrowing her brow, she groaned as she tried to cover them with her arm. Finding herself completely naked, she blinked absently as she realized she’d awoken in an unfamiliar room. Feeling the weight of a large arm as it pulled her close, she grinned as she realized who it belonged to. The soft red fur that covered it almost glowed in the coming dawn, to which, she lightly ran her fingers through it. The warmth of Varric sleeping contentedly beside her was something she’d longed for, more than she’d previously admitted. She’d never been with a dwarf, and now, she didn’t want to be with anyone else.

“Mmm, morning, Bianca.” Varric purred in her ear.

“Bianca?” she said, sitting up quickly and pulling the sheet over her. “Bianca?!”

“Shit... I’m sorry, Snowflake.” Varric muttered, rubbing his eyes.

“_Sorry_? You’re _sorry_, Varric?”

“I was just dreaming about...”

“I _know_ what you were dreaming. You were dreaming you were with _her! She’s_ the one you wanted to be with, not _me_!”

“That’s not true, Wynter. I wanted...”

“You wanted _Bianca_, I’m not blind. _Stupid_, yes, to think you’d ever care about anyone else but her.” she said, pulling on whatever clothing she could as quickly as possible. “You are so wrapped up in wanting _her_, that you can’t see there’s someone else that _loves_ you!”

“Who else would want...”

“_ME_, Varric! _I_ love you. But you’re so caught up in a world you could never have with her, that you’re too blind to _see_ that. She _made_ her choice, Varric. It was the man her family picked out for her, not you. I don’t know why you can’t see that. Until you do... Goodbye, Varric.”

Slamming the door behind her, Wynter ran from his chambers as swiftly as she could until she reached her own. Using a spell to unlock the door, she quickly bolted it back behind her, continuing on to plop down hard on her bed. She was angry with herself for having trusted the man with her heart, as she’d hoped he’d want more from her than just one night of passion. Varric couldn’t get over Bianca, no matter what he said, and the woman would never break tradition with her family to be with him. What that meant for her was that he would never be free to love her in return...

Wanting to remove the night from her skin, she made her way to her tub and ran a bath. Peeling off her clothing, she realized the shirt she’d pulled on was Varric’s. Tossing it angrily aside, she stepped into the heated water. Scrubbing her skin vigorously, she washed as much of the previous night from her body as she could. Wrapping a towel around her lean form, she walked to her wardrobe. Trying to find something to wear was a more difficult process than it had initially appeared, and in the end, she opted for a plain skirt and blouse. She would be expected to open her shop today, as she had customers coming in for their orders. She didn’t really _want_ to see anyone, as she wasn’t feeling very strong emotionally. She had things to do however, and they couldn’t be put aside because she had a broken heart.

Going to her mirror to tend to her hair, she noticed the dark purple love bite on her neck and bit her lip. It was a reminder of the wonderful night she’d had with the dwarf, and the cold reality that it was never going to happen again. Lightly tracing it with her fingers, she sighed as she remembered the way Varric had made her feel. It was magnificent, and he’d taken great care to ensure she was fully satisfied in every way possible. Struggling to use her magic to cover it up, she wished she’d been better at casting healing spells. Knowing she would instead need to style her hair to hide it, she quickly wove the snowy curls into a simple design that would hide the love bite and still look pretty.

Making her way through her apartment to her shop, she unlocked the doors and turned the sign to ‘open’. Turning to the racks where she had her orders hanging, she smiled slightly as she saw the tags for the Tevinter mage. Dorian truly did like to look good, and since she’d arrived in Skyhold several weeks ago, he’d kept her busy making him one thing or another. Between his charm and wit, he was a good distraction from those rare things that made her feel uneasy about leaving Val Royeaux. Hearing the bell to her door chime, she almost hoped it would be Varric, coming to genuinely apologize to her for calling her by the other woman’s name. Seeing the Tevinter, she put on the strongest face she could as she went to greet him.

“My dear Lady Wynter, whatever is the matter?” he asked, meeting her eyes gently.

“What makes you think there’s anything wrong?” she replied, looking away from him.

“Your eyes change color depending on your mood. When you’re happy, they’re your normal, wintery blue. When you’re angry, they turn almost completely white. When you’re faced with a certain dwarf, they become almost lilac in color, like they’re blushing. I’ve never seen them this deep blue before, which can only mean you’re sad. Who do I have to kill to brighten them up again?” he said, gently turning her head to face him once more.

Looking down as he moved her hair to reveal the bite Varric had left, he tsk tsked before removing it with his own magic.

“That man needs to be more careful with that porcelain skin of yours. Wouldn’t want him to damage anything permanently.” he continued, taking her hand and leading her from the shop. “Come. Let me make you a pot of tea and you can tell me all about it.” 

Sitting in the chair he’d pulled out for her, she watched absently as he went about making them some tea. Stirring in the honey a little more aggressively than she realized, she tapped the spoon on the glass and set it aside. Dorian’s voice broke the silence ever so gently as he once again asked what happened.

“He called me ‘Bianca’ when we woke up this morning.” she said softly.

“Surely, he didn’t.” Dorian replied, shocked at her statement. “Bianca is a _horrible_ woman that opened the door so Corypheus could get his hands on red lyrium.”

“When I called him on it, he fumbled through an apology that wasn’t sincere before going on to say she would be the only woman who could ever love him. _I_ love him, Dorian. Why can’t he see that?”

“He does, dear woman. He does.”

“Then he just doesn’t care about me in return.”

“Quite the contrary. When I went to summon him for the Inquisitor this morning, he was more distraught then I’ve ever seen the man. Kept going on about how he’d hurt you, and how you’d never forgive him. Anyone less observant than myself wouldn’t have noticed the redness of his eyes as he spoke, indicating he’d been crying. Those are the actions of a man in love.”

“If that were true, why hasn’t he come to speak to me himself?”

“He was to leave with the Inquisitor before dawn on a mission with Iron Bull. I don’t exactly know what they were up to, and after what the big oaf said to me last night, I’m not sure I want to.” Dorian stated, sipping his tea.

“What did he say?” Wynter asked, setting her cup down on its saucer.

“That he and the Inquisitor were off to settle matters between him and the Qunari, once and for all. He said that there was going to be another man there that would likely try to kill me if he saw me, and Bull didn’t want to have to kill someone he cared about protecting someone he loved. It was a person he’d rescued from a Tevinter slaver, that’s all he would tell me.”

“Why did she want Varric go?”

“Between you and me, I think the Inquisitor was taking him so that she could make sure he wasn’t going to see Bianca again. The repulsive little scab actually dared threaten to feed Mariah her eyes if she got Varric killed. Mariah was quick to warn the woman to stay away from him completely or she’d feed the dwarf her own intestines. It was beautiful to watch her pale before scurrying away like the dung beetle she is.” Dorian chuckled.

“If only...” Wynter whispered.

“Take heart, my dear. Varric _does_ love you. He’s been so bound up in that woman and her constant narcissistic need to be the only one he sees that it’s hard for him to see she’s been dragging him along all these years. He’ll come ‘round, you’ll see.” he grinned, finishing his tea. “Now, about my order...”

“Payment’s already been taken care of, so you can just double check the fit and take them at your leisure.” she replied, getting to her feet.

“Taken care of? By whom?” he asked, holding out one of the sleeves.

“By someone who adores you, and is grateful for all you’ve done for her.”

“Tell her it was an honor.” Dorian smirked, kissing her hand.

Helping him gather his things, she watched as he admired them before making his way from her shop. Closing the door behind him, she pondered all that he’d said as she went about the remainder of the day. She wondered if any of it was actually true, before realizing the man had no reason to lie to her. Only Varric would be able to convince her fully of what the man had said, and given he was off with the Inquisitor, she doubted that would happen. He’d likely forget by the time they’d returned, or wanted to go on as though nothing had happened between them. She wouldn’t be able to do that however, as just the mere presence of the dwarf left her tingling.

As the days passed, Wynter found herself doing anything she could to keep her mind off the dwarf and the wonderful night they’d shared. Varric’s manhood was larger, and he was more stockily built than any other man she’d been with, which left her walking funny for the first few days. When two weeks had gone by with no word from him, she figured he’d returned, and hadn’t wanted to see her. It was probably for the best, as she wasn’t sure that she really wanted to see him either. Watching the sun dip lower in the sky on this particular evening, she prepared the shop for closing when she heard the bell above the door chime.

“One moment, I’ll be right there.” she said, tucking the day’s earnings into a locked safe. “I was just about to close up for the night...” she paused.

Spotting Varric making his way slowly through the racks of clothing, she sniffed under her breath before turning away. 

“Oh, it’s you.” she stated, disinterested.

“I wanted to talk to you, Snowflake.” Varric said, locking the door and flipping the sign to ‘closed’.

“Why ‘Snowflake’?” she asked, spinning to face him.

“Beg pardon?”

“Why Snowflake? I know everyone has to have their little pet names with you, but why that? Is it some sort of hidden insult, like with ‘Chuckles’?”

“You don’t know?”

Shaking her head, she furrowed her brow as he led her to her living room and closed the door that separated her shop from her apartment.

“Snowflakes are delicate, always traveling together in large groups. They lack the confidence to stand on their own for fear of melting. But, on extremely rare occasions, there’s that one Snowflake that isn’t afraid to shine in the light. She’s graceful, unique, and more rare and beautiful than every other that falls in the winter. To me, you’re that incredibly special Snowflake that isn’t afraid to stand on her own.”

“You... you think I’m beautiful?”

“_Everyone_ thinks you’re beautiful, Snowflake. I just happen to be the lucky bastard that caught your eye.” Varric smiled gently. “Not that I deserve it, I’m a total ass.”

“That’s an understatement.” Wynter chuffed.

“When I was still a gullible young man, I met this woman that was smart, funny, beautiful, and as witty as I am. She was everything I ever wanted in a woman, and I fell hard and fast. She knew it, too. I originally found her when I began looking for someone to fix a design for a crossbow that a guy named Gerav had made, a smith capable of getting the pieces to work that he couldn’t. Bianca did. It took her no time at all before she had that crossbow working, and when the Carta asked me about it, I told them it just took tweaking the pins a bit. The Carta paid the guy a fortune to try and redo what she’d done, but he could never get it to work. In the end, Gerav ended up holding hands with Corypheus on this crazy nightmare we’re in now.

“There was a condition to making my crossbow work. I had to promise Bianca that I wouldn’t tell anyone that she’d fixed it. If anyone learned that she was the one to get the mechanics right... The dwarves would go on a quest to conquer all of Thedas, and that design would ensure their victory. Bianca and I were in love though, so making that promise was easy. Or, so I thought. Her parents found a nice smith caste boy for her with an impressive collection of anvils and when it came down to who she would marry, she chose him. Still, it nearly caused a clan war between her family and mine...

“Not that we didn’t still... meet up, from time to time. To me, it was worth the risk. I was _crazy_ about her. I didn’t care that her parents always sent assassins once they’d learned we’d seen one another. They were just worried we’d created a bastard that would get her exiled from her family and the rest of Thedas. Not that dwarves are particularly _fertile_, but that was part of their fear, or so I’ve been led to believe.

“Bianca never gave me up, though, keeping where I’d gone a secret until the assassins gave up. Thankfully, they were too cheap to hire the Antivan Crows. When she showed up here a few weeks ago... I was excited as well as nervous. Listening to her go on about the red lyrium raised some red flags, but then, I’d never paid much attention to those. Besides. This time, I was distracted by an impossibly beautiful elven lass to notice she was setting me up. Again.” Varric turned, smirking at her. “I wanted to make sure the red lyrium didn’t get any further than what she’d described, which is why I went with her to try and shut it down.

“When I got back, I was angry. She’d betrayed me and once again, abused my trust. I decided on our way to Skyhold that I was done with her. She threatened the Inquisitor, which Dorian tells me didn’t go well, and she’d played me for the fool just like she always did. When I saw you enter the Herald’s Rest, I flagged you over. I wanted to tell you that I was done with her, and that, if you wanted it, my attention, and my affection, was all yours.”

“Why didn’t you?” Wynter asked softly.

“This may sound strange to you, but... I was afraid. I’d wasted so much of my life in love with a woman that only wanted to toy with me that I wasn’t sure anyone else ever _could_ love me. Instead, I decided to drink and hope that you’d join me. When I woke up the next day, I thought I was still in the dream from shortly after I’d first met Bianca. When I realized it was you... I thought I was in another dream, one far _better_. After you left, I realized how badly I’d hurt you and wanted to knock some sense into my thick skull. I was devastated that I’d made you feel inadequate to someone as shitty as Bianca, and didn’t think you’d ever speak to me again. I didn’t even _love_ Bianca anymore, though I’d been too blind to see that until that morning.

“You said something that gave me hope though... you said ‘Until you do...’. I took that to mean that, maybe, if the Fates were kind, you’d give me another chance to be the man you deserve. Wynter, I want to be that man for you... I need you in my life, my beautiful, glimmering treasure of a woman. I want you... I love you...” he finished, moving to sit beside her on the sofa.

“I love you too, Varric.”

“Really? Even after all I’ve done?”

“Since I met you... I’ve thought of no one else. I only want you, Varric...” she whispered.

Feeling him pull her close, Wynter wrapped her arms around Varric and held him with all she was. His lips on hers was like her own personal heaven. Scooting closer to the arm of the sofa as he lay her back, she whimpered softly as his hand slid around her waist to cup a breast before proceeding down her side to her hip. Her heart pounded heavily in her ears as he slowly moved the material of her dress up her thigh, the calluses on his hand caressing the tender flesh with their roughness. Moving her outer leg so that he might remove her silken underclothes, she gasped as he teased her silky petals with a thick finger.

Positioning the leg closest to the sofa around Varric’s waist, she worked the ties to his leather pants and freed his throbbing manhood. Teetering at the edge of climax as he slowly slid the tip into her heated core, she felt her body burst into a million stars as he drove himself the rest of the way in. Everything about him was thick and hard, and as he brought her to another release, she couldn’t keep from crying his name to the stars above. Feeling his teeth on the base of her neck near her collar bone, she dug her nails into the exposed flesh of his tight haunches as he tugged lightly at her pale skin.

“Maker, Varric... I want more...” she whimpered, rocking against him as she was consumed by another orgasm.

“What my beautiful angel wants, my beautiful angel gets.” he smirked, holding her tight against him.

Gasping in surprise as he lifted her off the couch, she clung desperately to him as he carried her over to her bed. Scooting back once he’d briefly withdrawn, she quickly removed the remainder of her clothing, tossing it carelessly aside. Leaning up to capture his lips, he grinned as he gently pushed her back against her pillows.

“Oh, no, Snowflake. I’m going to show you just how much I love being in your arms.” he purred, smirking as he moved over her.

“Sweet Maker!” she cried, arching against him as he grabbed a pert nipple between his teeth.

Feeling his calloused hand slip behind her back, Wynter laced her fingers through his light red hair as she held him to her. His free hand moved slowly down her belly, reaching the apex of her thighs. Placing her hand atop his, she pushed him to her womanhood, wanting only the pleasure he would bring her. When he slowly moved down the length of her, she gasped as he took her with his mouth, the stubble on his cheeks rough against her inner thighs.

Gripping the sheet by her head tightly, Wynter writhed as Varric brought her to another climax. The moan of delight as he tasted her made her explode again, biting her lip to keep from screaming his name.

“Mmm, Wynter is coming.” he purred, licking his lips hungrily. “And I’m hungry for more...”

“Varric... Oh, sweet Maker! I want to feel you inside me... I want you throbbing within me... Please...” she begged.

“Your wish is my command, my beautiful Snowflake.” he grinned.

Feeling his hard shaft slide easily into her silky core, Wynter gripped him tight with her womanhood and thrust hard against him. Hearing her name on his lips was intoxicating, and as his body grew taut, she relished in the power she had found. Gripping him hard to her body as his orgasm began, she savored the burning fire that erupted between them. Panting softly as he rest on his forearms over her, she felt the joy welling up in her whole being.

“That was better than I remember, my precious Snowflake.” he said, kissing her hotly.

“Mmm, I agree, my _impossibly_ handsome dwarf.” she grinned, meeting his eyes playfully.

Hissing as he slowly withdrew, she readily curled up onto his chest once he’d lay on his back. Letting her fingers twist the soft red hair on his chest, she listened as he teased her about the perils of such.

“You know, it’s been said that just looking at my chest hair can make one pregnant.” he chuckled.

“Oh? So what’s the word about actually _playing_ with it?” she grinned, looking up to meet his warm eyes.

“That you’ll forever have the man twisted around your little finger.” he laughed. “I love you, Wynter. Even if I have to spend the rest of my life proving that, you’ll never doubt me again.”

“I love you too, Varric.” she answered, resting her head back over his heart.

Listening to the steady rhythm, Wynter was soon slumbering in her dreams for their future.


	8. Chapter 8

Waking to the fire in her blood as Varric roused her from her sleep, she rolled over to share herself with him in the early morning light. Sighing contentedly in his arms, she lightly twisted the hair on his chest around her fingers. She regretted informing Lady Vivienne that her newest outfit was ready, and that she could pick it up that day. Smiling brightly as he spoke, Wynter found she could listen to him all day.

“I love it when you do that.” he said, putting his hand over hers.

“Oh? Shall I stop then?” she teased.

“Stop? I pine for you enough when I’m gone. I don’t need to do it here too.” he chuckled.

“At least you’re piney and not whiney.” she laughed, sitting up slightly to meet his warm amber gaze.

“You should hear Dorian. That man was so spoiled before he came here it’s a wonder he isn’t asking Tiny to carry him everywhere. I keep asking him if he wants some cheese to go with his wine, but he’s not impressed.” he snickered.

“Well then, my furry lover, whatever shall I do to keep you satisfied when we’re apart?” she smirked. “I wouldn’t want you to be lonely while out and about.”

“I can think of a few things.” he grinned.

Laying back on the mattress as he moved over her, she captured his lips for a heated kiss. He was everything she wanted, and right then, she wanted nothing between them but the morning breeze as it blew through an open window. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she moaned contentedly as he slid himself within her. Making love with him was fast becoming one of her favorite pastimes, and she could tell the feeling was mutual.

Deciding to spend the day with Varric alone in her apartment instead of opening the shop, she went to bathe with him before starting them some breakfast. Neither had felt much like dressing that morning, Varric wearing only his smallclothes while she chose a pale lilac silk robe. It wasn’t like anyone would be able to see them, as the few windows in the apartment all had their curtains closed, save those in her bedroom, and that was on the second floor. The shop was separated by a door to the ground level of her apartment, so she could have her privacy when she wasn’t working. The Inquisitor had given her every consideration, and she was grateful.

Pouring both she and Varric a glass of wine as the morning turned to afternoon, she padded softly through the apartment and set them on the table. Grinning as she saw him sprawled on the sofa, she set the glasses down and moved to snuggle up to him. Smiling as he opened the pages to one of his books, she sighed happily as he began to read to her. Shifting to rest back against the arm of the couch, she wrapped her legs around him as he turned to lay between her legs against her chest. Running her fingers through his hair, she let her mind take her to the location his story took place in.

Turning her head swiftly as she heard the door from her shop to her apartment burst open, she watched as a trio of shadows stepped into the light of the crackling fire. Staring at Cassandra, Vivienne and Sera as they now stood in her home, she used her legs and feet to cover Varric’s groin area.

“Maker’s breath!” Vivienne exclaimed at seeing Varric almost naked. “You could at _least_ put some clothes on.”

“We weren’t expecting company, how nice of you to drop in.” Varric smirked, placing the book over Wynter’s feet.

Cassandra’s eyes were fixed on the thick layers of hair that covered his body, following the musculature down to where Wynter’s feet rested under the book.

“Hope you don’t choke on all the hair, yeah?” Sera said, smirking playfully. “Never would have guessed you were the type for short and furry.”

“Is there something we can do for you ladies?” Wynter asked, meeting their eyes in turn.

“These two knobs thought there was something wrong with you and wanted me to pick the lock cause your shop wasn’t open. I told ‘em I’d seen Varric head this way last night, but they didn’t believe me. Guess they didn’t expect me to tell the truth.” Sera answered, looking between Cassandra and Vivienne.

“_I_ never expected she’d bed the dwarf, not when there are _far_ better prospects here in Skyhold alone.” Vivienne retorted, still staring at the man in disgust. “And there were such great potential suiters, too.”

“The hair covers... _everything_...” Cassandra said softly. “And it looks so... _soft_.”

“It is. Soft, silky, warm... Good for snuggling into at night.” Wynter grinned.

“At least you know what she sees in him, yeah? Probably where he gets the inspiration for those books you like.” Sera snickered, looking at Cassandra.

“As you can see, ladies, I’ve decided to take the day off. I’ve been working non stop daily since I arrived, and I needed a rest. And I don’t want anyone playing matchmaker for me, either. I’m perfectly capable of choosing my own lover, thank you very much. Now, if you’ll please excuse us, we’d like to get back to what we were doing before you so rudely interrupted.” Wynter said, sliding out from under Varric and escorting the ladies towards the door.

“Not much into elves, but woof.” Sera grinned, bouncing out the door with the other two.

Locking it securely behind them, Wynter turned to face Varric. Seeing the smirk on his face told her he’d enjoyed that, as Cassandra had always made comment regarding his chest hair. Now, she’d seen it for herself, along with the rest of his dwarven goodness. 

“I think you might have offended Vivienne by telling her you didn’t want her to pick a partner for you.” Varric snickered.

“Ugh, she’d choose some stuff shirt noble who only wants a trophy, not a partner. I’m not a prize to be won.” she smiled softly.

“Oh, you’re _definitely_ a prize, but not one that can be given away. Only you can choose who you want to be with.”

“And I choose you, my impossibly handsome dwarf.” she teased, kissing the top of his head.

“And that makes me the luckiest guy in Thedas.” he smiled warmly.

Returning to her seat, she resumed running her fingers through his hair as he again rest against her, picking up where they left off in the book. His voice was soothing, and she loved the different voices he gave the characters he read about. They were brought to life with each change in pitch and tone he used to portray them.

Cooking them supper as the sun dipped lower in the night sky, Wynter settled beside him as they ate. They shared a laugh as they recalled the looks on Vivienne and Cassandra’s faces upon finding them as they did, and she knew neither would look at she or Varric the same after that. She didn’t understand what Sera meant by ‘woof’, as that was typically a sound only referred to dogs. When Varric explained it was her way of expressing her attraction to a woman, she couldn’t hide the blush that stained her cheeks a deep crimson.

“So then. What do you want to do with your incredibly handsome, silky haired dwarf for the remainder of the evening? Varric smirked as he helped her with the dishes.

“I’m sure I can think of a few things.” she grinned playfully.

Taking his hand, she led him up the stairs to her room and threw back the covers of her bed. Letting her robe drop to the ground, she slid up to the pillows and patted the bed beside her. Kissing him hotly as he crawled in, she grinned as he made to move over her. Pushing him to his belly instead, she straddled his waist and began massaging the taut muscles of his back.

“You’re so tense...” she said softly, kneading his back and shoulders.

“Of course I’m tense, I was expecting to make love with a beautiful woman.” he snickered.

“Which should only have _one_ muscle in your body hard as a rock, not _all_ of them.” she teased.

“What can I say? I’m a man of many passions.” he chuckled.

His moan of delight made her smile as she dug into the knots in his back, and she wondered if he’d ever taken time to get a massage before. She wasn’t a professional, but she knew what it felt like to have those same stiff and sore muscles rubbed out. Hearing him sigh after a while, Wynter knew he was more relaxed than he had been in what could possibly have been years.

“Better?” she asked, moving off him and resting on the bed beside him after a time.

“You’re really good at keeping me wrapped around your little finger, Snowflake.. Keep this up and I’ll stay here forever.” he said softly, pulling her into his arms.

“You could if you wanted to.” she replied, snuggling closer to him.

“I just might.” he grinned, kissing her sweetly.

Feeling her heart pound in excitement, Wynter closed her eyes and let her mind take her to a future she wanted with Varric. It was a future she’d never thought about before, but then, she’d never been so in love with a man the way she was with the dwarf. Even the man she’d loved that had perished in the Halamshiral alienage fire couldn’ compare, and at the time, he’d been her whole world. She’d never expected to find that kind of love again, but now she knew, she’d found one better.

Waking early the following morning, Wynter smiled as she felt Varric pull her close. He was snoring heavily, but even in his dreams, he refused to let her go. Waiting until he’d rolled over, she slipped silently from her room, having dressed quietly. Making her way downstairs, she started cooking them some breakfast, consisting of fresh eggs, pancakes, and orange juice. Plating some up, she ate quickly before taking a tray up to where her lover slept.

Calling his name softly, she smiled warmly as his eyes opened and fixed on her. Moving over to the bed, she set the tray in front of him as he sat up. Kissing him on the forehead, she blinked in surprise and he pulled her close for a quick kiss. Tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, she sat lightly beside him on the mattress.

“I love you...” he said abruptly.

“I love you too, my handsome dwarf. “What brings this on?”

“I... I don’t ever want you to question my feelings for you, Snowflake. I’ve wanted to tell you for some time now, but I haven’t had the courage. Now... I feel like I can do anything as long as you’re with me.”

“Well, that’s going to make things difficult. I’ve no taste for adventure, so you’re going to have to pine for me while you’re away.” she smirked.

“I’m becoming good at pining, thanks to you. Of course, Sparkler isn’t much better when Tiny has to go off without him. It’ll be tough competition trying to keep up with him.” Varric chuckled, popping a bite of egg in his mouth.

“Oh, I know, believe me. Whenever you’re away without him, he’s here lamenting the fact that his amatus is in grave danger, since he’s not there to protect him. I should start bringing a barrel out when he visits, as with all the whining he does, it would certainly fill within an hour or so.” she teased.

“Yeah, but that Tevinter stuff tastes like arrogance and greed. No one would drink it, except for maybe Bull.” he chuckled.

“Precisely! I could make a _fortune_ on that man’s pity. She laughed.

“_Especially_ if you took it to Orlais! Given your reputation as a world class fashion designer, people would snap it up every chance they got. Wouldn’t matter if it tasted like nug shit, as long as you endorsed it.”

“Ah, but they’d have to see me drinking it to be convincing that it was the best. I don’t think I could stomach it.” she giggled.

“That’s actually a fair point. I don’t think I could kiss you with that taste left in your mouth.” he laughed. “So. What’s on your agenda for today?”

“I should probably open the shop. Lady Vivienne is probably already standing outside the doors waiting for me to open so she can get her outfit. Maker knows she’ll take the door off if she has to wait much longer. How about you?”

“I should probably check in with the Inquisitor. She was looking over the information from Emperor Gaspard regarding the Exalted Plains. Several troops have gone missing, both his soldiers, and Celene’s, and he wants us to track them down. Awful mess, the Plains. The battlements are supposedly flooded with undead. Not to mention, there’s supposed to be a Dalish clan near there, and they’re not very friendly towards humans, or anything having to do with the Chantry, for that matter.”

“If it’s Keeper Hawen, you’re right to be nervous. He was the one that traded me for grain when I was a child, rather than tutor me in magic. He’s not exactly the nicest man when it comes to humans. The Inquisitor should be careful. You should _all_ be careful.” she said, moving from the bed.

Walking to the open window, she closed her eyes as the breeze caressed her cheeks. It had been a long time since she’d spoken of her old Keeper, and thought she’d been able to push him from her mind entirely. Now, he was once again invading her thoughts, making her feel like she wasn’t even a person, like she was nothing more than an object to be bartered away. Feeling Varric’s hand slide around her waist, she rest her head against his.

“You’re not cursed, Snowflake. You’re more than what he could ever have dreamed. You’re a glimmering gem compared to him, and I’m glad he wasn’t able to see that. I never would have met you if he had.” he said gently.

“While it hurt at the time, it brought me to you. I wouldn’t trade that for all the gold in Thedas.” she replied.

Standing there with Varric, Wynter found that she no longer cared what her old Keeper thought about her. He’d been mistaken about her: she wasn’t cursed, but rather she was gifted. While she wasn’t great at magic, it allowed her the ability to create runes, and enchant things as only dwarves and the Tranquil were able. At times, she wondered what it would have been like to sit at the Keeper’s side as he taught her to use her magic, but then, she recalled all the advantages she’d been given since coming to Lady Cerise’s estate. It was a gift that brought her to Varric, and she wouldn’t have chosen a life without him for anything in the world...


	9. Chapter 9

Kissing Varric goodbye as he went to meet up with the Inquisitor, Wynter made for her shop and opened up for the day. It wasn’t long before Lady Vivienne was stepping through the door, the look on her face expressing her displeasure at having to wait an extra day for her clothing.

“Glad to see you’ve finished rolling the dwarf. At _least_ he’s of noble birth, though you could do far better, darling.” she said, making her way through the shop. “I’m certain we could have maneuvered you into Emperor Gaspard’s bed, given time. It still might be possible, _despite_ your dwarven daliance.”

“I’ve met the Emperor, and I can’t say I’m fond of the idea of sharing his bed again...”

“Again?”

“Yes, again.”

“This is a story I must hear, darling.”

“It wasn’t anything spectacular, and I have no desire to repeat the offense. He put something in my drink once while Lady Cerise was still alive, and when I woke up next to him, I would rather have chewed my own arm of rather than disturb him. He’s a smooth talker, but he’s also arrogant and self centered. And we both know elves can’t be seen with royalty without causing a serious scandal. Besides. It’s not Varric’s title I’m attracted to. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s charming, witty and handsome. I feel the same about him as you do the Duke of Ghislain, which I know you wouldn’t trade for the world, and neither would I.”

“Suit yourself, darling. I only know there were far better options for you than someone so covered in hair...”

“It adds to his charm.” Wynter smiled. “Shall I gather your dress, lady Vivienne?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Making her way to the racks of custom clothing in the back, she pulled the dress Vivienne had commissioned and carefully placed it in a garment bag. Returning to the former First Enchanter, she passed the package over with a warm smile.

“This color will bring out your eyes, and the style will enhance your features quite nicely. You chose well.” Wynter said, taking the payment and tucking it in her cash drawer.

“With your talent, I knew it would be perfect. I delight in your skill, darling. I shall return when the mood strikes me for another outfit of superior quality.”

Nodding, she walked the woman to the door and closed it behind her. Returning to her sewing, she let herself become lost in the careful stitching of the shirt she was making for Varric. Looking up as the bell above the door chimed, she set the project aside and went to greet her visitor. Spotting a woman with raven hair and hawk like eyes browsing her wares, she offered her a warm smile as she approached.

“Welcome to Wynter’s Wonderland Emporium, lady Morrigan. Is there something I can help you find?”

“You’re the little elven girl I met while Lady Cerise was visiting the Empress all those years ago. It’s good to see you’ve gone up in the world.” Morrigan smiled. “I’m looking for something that will keep me warm in this cold mountain air, yet remain as unrestrictive as possible. I’m told you have such skill, yes?”

“You’ve come to the right place, my lady. I spin, weave and sew my own designs, and can assure you, I’m more than capable of meeting your needs.”

“Glad I am to hear it. What would you suggest, lady Wynter?”

Showing Morrigan some fabrics and styles, she nodded as the woman made some selections before departing. Assuring the woman she could have it completed by the end of the week, she escorted her to the door and watched her walk off. She could tell Morrigan made some of the soldiers uncomfortable, as they gave her a wide birth as she passed. She’s heard of the tension between Lady Nightingale and the witch, something that had related to events during the Blight. Perhaps she’d seek out the Spymaster at some point to ask her about it.

Spending the rest of the day sewing, she smiled as she saw Varric approaching. Waiting until he’d entered, she locked the shop up and stored the coin she’d earned in a small safe. Making her way up into the apartment above, she prepared them a simple meal and poured them each a glass of wine. Claiming a seat by the fire once they’d finished eating, she snuggled close as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I saw Vivienne heading this way earlier...” he began.

“She tried to tell me I was better off with someone like Gaspard, but he doesn’t have enough hair for me.” she smirked.

“Maybe she likes bald guys. She’s probably formed some secret hairless society that has all of Orlais in a tizzy. Bet they’re all in line at the barber’s shops waiting to be shaved from head to toe.” he chuckled.

“Maker forbid! Aren’t there enough elves running around without the elite of the Empire trying to copy us?” she snickered.

“It could be worse. Dwarven women often have to shave or else they’d be growing a beard too. Not a pretty picture.” he laughed.

“So why don’t you have a beard?”

“Aren’t I hairy enough? Besides. I wouldn’t want to hide these good looks with a pillow of fur.”

“I like your fur. Keeps me warm at night.” she teased, running her fingers through the hair on his chest.

“Yeah, blankets of it.” he laughed. “I guess you haven’t heard the rumors about my chest hair, given how often you like to play with it.”

“Oh? There are rumors?”

“Yep. I’m so manly that just looking at my chest is supposed to make women swoon. Touching it spontaneously makes them pregnant.” he chuckled.

“Well then. I suppose I should just leave you be. Wouldn’t want to tempt fate.” she smirked, sitting up and scooting away from him.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, pulling her back to his side.

“You’re right. Those rumors are just desperate people wishing they had as much hair as you do. Not an ounce of truth to any of it. _Especially_ the ‘manly’ part.” she laughed.

“Not manly enough for you? I’ll show you _manly_.” he chuckled.

Squealing as he stood and tossed her over his shoulder, she giggled as she told him to put her down. Wiggling as he made his way to her room, she squeaked as he then plopped her on the bed. Laughing, she tried to squirm away, but was held fast by a large hand around her ankle. Cackling as he pinned her down to tickle her, she fought desperately to get him to stop, but to no avail. Panting breathlessly once he’d decided she’d had enough, she stared up into his warm eyes.

“I wouldn’t necessarily call that ‘manly’.” she smirked.

“Guess I’ll just have to show you.” he replied.

Feeling his lips on her neck made her blood burn hot. His fingers easily worked the buttons of her bodice, exposing her pale skin to his hunger. Gasping for breath as he took a pert nipple in his teeth, she laced her fingers through his hair. He knew just how to please her, and she savored every breath taking moment of it. Spending the remainder of the night making love with him, she soon curled up in his arms and drifted off into a blissful sleep.

Feeling a gentle finger brush a lock of hair from her face, she opened her eyes and smiled as she saw Varric sitting over her. He was already dressed, which meant he would be leaving soon. Pushing the blanket back, she sat up to lean into his embrace.

“I attempted to make food, and it probably sucks. I didn’t have time to eat much myself, as Torch wants to get on the road. We’re going to see if we can’t figure out what the hell is going on in the Exalted Plains. Shit’s weird there, and the Emperor wants us to figure out why. Who knew that saving Orlais meant we’d be playing errand boy for Gaspard.” he smiled.

“Well, he can’t go getting his hands dirty, now can he? What kind of impression would that make to the rest of the court?” she smirked.

“Maker knows they’d try to turn it into some new fashion. Mud on the boots? Absolutely! There’d be a mud vendor on every corner, and they’d somehow figure out a way to dye it different colors. ‘I want some red mud today to go with my orange and yellow plaid pants’. Could you imagine the nightmare that would be?” he snickered.

“Ugh, talk about crimes of fashion. Like emerald and pearl on a glass slipper. Why men need such adornment is beyond me.” she chuckled.

“We can’t be outdone by a lady, now, can we?” he teased.

“So you’d rather be peacocks? All flash and flare, and no sensuality and sexual gratification?”

“Oh, I’ll see you’re gratified, flare or not, my fiery little Snowflake.” he replied, kissing her hotly. “If I linger, I’ll want to prove it to you. I think Torch would drag me out by my... ear if I made her wait though.” he laughed, pulling away.

“Oh, alright then. Go save the world, if you must.” Wynter smirked. “But you owe me a proper meal when you return.”

“You’ve got a deal, Snowflake.”

Watching him leave the room, Wynter got up and dressed before heading to the small dining room. Looking at what Varric had prepared, she shook her head and laughed. It was a simple meal of bacon and eggs with a side of toast. It wasn’t much, but she found herself growing hungrier the more she looked at it. Taking a seat, she ate her breakfast as she thought about all she had to do that day. She worried for Varric, especially if he happened upon the Dalish elves. They weren’t commonly friendly with outsiders, and if it was the clan she’d been born into, there was far more to be concerned about than Gaspard’s wishes. Keeper Hawen wasn’t exactly the _nicest_ person to begin with, and coming face to face with humans was sure to sour him further.

She couldn’t help but think of how he’d treated her as a child: like she was a cursed beast that didn’t deserve the chance to grow up in _his_ clan, simply because she was born different. The previous Keeper wasn’t much better, as he’d shunned her after her mother had been killed by darkspawn. When she’d been traded for grain, she’d felt as though her life would end. The clan was all she’d known, and now she was being thrust into a world of humans that often hated elves simply because of the shape of their ears. Lady Cerise had been kind to her however, treating her like the daughter she’d been unable to have. It was an opportunity that saw Wynter thriving, something she was grateful for.

She did wonder though. What if Hawen hadn’t sent her away? Would she be better at magic, having been trained by him to use her spells effectively? Would she be married now, with children of her own? What would her vallaslin have been? Would her delicate skin be able to tolerate the inks used to create the design? Shaking her head, she knew she was better off where she was, even if the world she now lived in wasn’t as fond of elves as the other races. Still, it had been two elves that had stopped the last two Blights; Garahel killed the Archdemon Andoral in 5:24 Exalted, and Shaaria killed the Archdemon Urthemiel in 9:31 Dragon, a fact most people overlooked, especially since the fifth Blight ended ten years ago.

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she finished her meal and went to open her shop. Sketching out a new design, she was already picturing how it would be received in the noble houses across Thedas. Quietly sipping her tea as the day wore on, she cut the material for the first part of the dress, wanting to get a start on it as soon as possible. The seasons were changing and with it, the fashion. She needed to stay ahead of the game if she was to remain an icon to the industry, and what better way than for her to be seen wearing her latest creation around Skyhold. Word would spread to Orlais, as it always did, and she would soon be inundated with orders. Smiling to herself, she found she couldn’t wait to feel that excitement rushing through her veins once again.


	10. Chapter 10

The weeks that followed were busy, given Wynter had sent out fliers for her new line of fashion. She didn’t mind, as it kept her from worrying about Varric and all that he could be facing in the Exalted Plains. She trusted the Inquisitor to keep him safe, and if she didn’t, she knew either Bull or Dorian would. They had a dynamic rarely seen in this day and age, one that had gotten them out of Haven, and seen them to Skyhold. They’d braved the Fade at Adamant, and stopped the Duchess from throwing Orlais into chaos. True, it had come at the cost of the Empress’ life, but she honestly held no love for the woman. She’d burned the Halamshiral alienage while sleeping with her elven lover, Briala, killing many of Wynter’s friends, including Fenarel, the man she’d loved at the time.

Clearing her mind of things from the past, she knew that her future was here in Skyhold. At least, for now. There was no telling what would happen once the Inquisitor finished off this Corypheus, though she found herself hoping her future included Varric. If he didn’t... It wasn’t something she really wanted to think about just then. Rising from her sewing late that afternoon, she stretched her lithe form as she made her way to the window. It looked like rain was going to set in, blocking out the moon and stars as they shone above the keep. She liked the rain, particularly when she had a warm fire and furry dwarf to keep her nice and toasty.

Making herself some supper, a heart bowl of rice and lamb stew, she curled up on the couch with a copy of ‘Swords and Shields’ that Cassandra had lent her. It was the first in the series, and the Seeker swore it was the best of all Varric’s books. Ten pages in and she was trying to convince herself that it was at least a _little_ good. The truth was, she saw the appeal, even if it was more than a little cheesy. The love scenes were just unrealistic though, given no woman she knew would ever be as desperate for a man to take her as the heroine in this tale was. It made her wonder just how lonely Cassandra was to be reading such a novel. Chuckling to herself, she tossed the book aside and picked up the first book in his ‘Hard in Hightown’ series. She and Varric had already read it together once, but she wanted to read it herself, his voice filling her mind as her eyes moved over the pages.

Several more weeks passed, with only one missive from Varric stating he’d be back soon. She was overly excited to see him, as he’d mentioned meeting Keeper Hawen in the Plains. He’d stated that her former clan had suffered some casualties recently, and she couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated. They’d sent her away, believing she was cursed, only to fall on more difficult times with her gone. Spotting her love ride through the gates with the clan in tow made her a little nervous. She wasn’t really _interested_ in speaking with Hawen, but as both he and Varric made their way to her apartment, she knew it was a meeting she was going to have to face.

“Snowflake.” Varric called, opening the door to her apartment. “I’ve brought someone to see you.”

Stepping out from the kitchen area, she folded her arms as she watched the Keeper enter behind him.

“Oh good. Look what the cat dragged in.” she remarked, meeting the elf’s eyes.

“You call her ‘Snowflake?” Hawen asked, looking from the dwarf to meet her eyes.

“It’s a term of endearment. Something to express my love and adoration for her beauty and loving heart. As beautiful and unique as each snowflake that falls in winter.” Varric answered, showing the man to the living room.

Following behind the men, she briefly met Varric’s eyes, expressing her displeasure with little more than a gesture in the lightning color her eyes took on. Moving to sit beside the dwarf, she watched as Hawen claimed a seat across from them.

“When I read your letter stating you’d met the clan, I didn’t expect you to bring them _back_ with you.” Wynter said, keeping her stern gaze locked on Hawen’s. 

“The Inquisitor offered us shelter until we could recover the halla we’ve lost, and repair and rebuild the aravels that were destroyed in the shemlen war.” Hawen replied. “When I learned you were here... I wished to speak with you, da’len.”

“I’m _not_ your child, _Hawen_. You made that clear when you sent me away as a little girl.” Wynter retorted harshly.

“I was wrong, da... Wynter. I came to offer an apology.” Hawen said gently.

“An apology? For blaming every little thing that went wrong in your clan on a small child? For turning your back on a young mage who desperately needed the guidance of her Keeper when her magic showed up? For _trading_ a little girl for three sacks of grain, not caring what would _happen_ to her?” Wynter retorted.

“Aye... In all our People’s history, there has never been a child born to a clan like you. After your mother was killed, some of the others began whispering of a curse. When the previous Keeper died, that thought was planted securely in their minds. I didn’t know what else to do. I had doubts of my own, and when your magic showed up... I thought certain doom would wipe our clan...”

“_Your_ clan...” Wynter interrupted.

“Um, right I thought your magic would destroy us all. Desperately needing the supplies the merchant brought our way, I saw an opportunity to free the clan of what they perceived as a great danger to us all. After you left, our luck went from bad to worse. Several hunters were killed when they accidentally stumbled across a great bear and her cubs, the halla master couldn’t keep the pregnant halla from losing their fawns, our aravels broke down at an alarming rate, many of the young da’len died of sickness and disease, and recently, my First, Taven, went to try and find a safe route through the plains. He hasn’t been heard from or seen since.” Hawen answered.

“Sounds like Wynter was the only thing keeping tragedy _away_ from your clan.” Varric offered, pulling her close to him.

“Aye. I sent scouts to try and discover what had become of her, to bring her home, but the merchant covered his tracks. They went as far as Orlais, though no one there would speak to a knife ear that didn’t belong to some noble. I made a _terrible_ mistake, da’len, and I’m truly sorry for turning you away as I did. I should have cared for you as my own when your parents returned to the earth, but I was too afraid of what more your presence in our clan might have done. I humbly ask for your forgiveness, dal’en.”

Letting out a sigh, Wynter could see the weariness in the man’s voice. His tired eyes looked from hers to the floor, ashamed of how he’d treated her as a child. His sincerity was genuine, touching her heart in his desire for forgiveness.

“When you sent me away... It hurt. I didn’t think _anyone_ would want me. You’d made it clear I was a freak, and nothing more. The merchant was kind to me though, telling me I was going to be a gift for someone very special. Lady Cerise treated me like her own daughter, something I’d never known in your clan. I was given a chance to grow up like any of the children born to nobles, something no Dalish has ever been afforded. She kept the Templars from dragging me to the Circle, and taught me how to be a Lady. I learned how to play several instruments, sing, dance, be charming and elegant, and make clothing all of Thedas is eager to buy. I am the leading fashion designer in several countries, and spin, weave and sew my own designs. When a dwarven merchant and his son came through, I learned the art of enchanting, given my magic was never given the opportunity to flourish and grow. It also brought me to Varric, something I wouldn’t trade for all the love a clan could have offered me.” Wynter replied, offering her love a warm smile. “Given all I’ve gained since leaving your clan, I’d say it was a blessing, Hawen. The misfortunes you’ve endured have hopefully taught you not to judge a person based solely on how they look.”

“It has indeed, da’len. I am glad to see how the Creators have blessed you, even if it came at the cost of so much hardship to the clan.” Hawen smiled slightly.

Returning the gesture, Wynter looked to Varric as he invited the Keeper to stay for lunch. Nodding her head as he was about to protest, she went to the kitchen and prepared something for them to eat. Sitting down with both men, she listened as Varric repeated many stories he’d told her. The Keeper laughed at some, and frowned at others, sharing in the sorrow of the people Varric had spoken of. Gathering the dishes once they’d finished, she took them back to the kitchen and washed them up. Hawen quickly moved to help her, using his magic to rinse and dry each dish as she’d cleaned them. Seeing him to the door as he prepared to leave, she promised she’d stop by to see the others before they left.

Breathing a sigh of relief once he’d departed, she Rest briefly against the door. Making her way back to the living room with a glass of wine, she set it on the end table as she picked up her book. Flopping on the sofa, Wynter cracked open the pages of ‘The Dasher’s Men’. She’d spent a lot of time and money obtaining Varric’s first novel, and now she was going to enjoy it. Leaning back against the arm, she blinked as Varric came up from behind her and took the book from her hands.

“Where’d you find a copy of _this_?” he asked, swinging one of her legs around him so that he could sit between them, facing away from her on the couch.

“It was in a barrel labeled ‘free reading material’.” she teased. “I had to dig, as it was nearly at the bottom. I think some people have been using them to...”

“Looks in too good a condition to have been at the bottom.” Varric smirked. “I didn’t think any of these still existed.”

“Well, they do, and this one’s my copy.” Wynter chuckled, taking the book from him and setting it on the end table.

“Eh, well. At least it’s better than my ‘Swords and Shields’ serial. Those are just awful.”

“That’s because they were written by a man. A _woman_ could really work something out of them.” she laughed.

“Hey now, Cassandra likes them.”

“Cassandra is easy to please... Throw something sharp in her hands, and she’s all reared up and ready to go.” she laughed, pulling the tie from his hair so that it fell loose around his shoulders. “So, Master Tethras. What’s new in the world of your wild and crazy adventures?”

“Mariah’s pregnant. Shouldn’t be a surprise, given how often she and Curly are together. Still, the timing is terrible. Do you know how messed up the world is out there?” he sighed, leaning back as she rubbed his scalp.

“That’s why you have to be careful. If anything happened to you...”

“Worry not, fair maiden, I’m a lot stronger than I look.” he chuckled. Seeing the softness in her eyes, he furrowed his brow. “Something wrong, Snowflake?”

“I was just picturing Mariah with a babe. Seems odd, don’t you think?”

“Big tough woman like her, being all gentle and nurturing? I think Curly’s worked magic with her. She’s not always as hard as she appears. She’ll be a great mother, once she gets it all figured out.” he smiled.

“I fully agree.”

“You’re not jealous, are you? Thinking of auditioning for the role of ‘Mother of the Impossibly Handsome dwarf’s child’? It’s a difficult role to obtain, as dwarves aren’t exactly the most fertile.” he chuckled, closing his eyes as she continued rubbing his neck and shoulders.

“No, not jealous. Though, I think I’ll skip the audition, especially since I’ve already obtained the role.” she smirked.

Watching him sit up and turn to face her, she offered Varric a warm smile.

“You... skipped the audition? You’re...?” Varric asked softly.

Nodding her head, Wynter watched as he paled slightly before moving over to kiss her excitedly. Squeaking as he then pulled her onto his lap, she laughed as he alternated between kissing her, and looking her over.

“How far?” he asked, placing his hand on her belly.

“Almost three months, if my math is correct. It usually is, so...” she grinned.

“Andraste’s sacred knickers, woman!” he exclaimed, kissing her again.

Moaning softly as the kiss changed from one of excitement to something a little deeper, she sighed in contentment. She knew dwarves didn’t have many children, as their prolonged exposure to lyrium and darkspawn taint severely impacted their fertility. Surface dwarves didn’t have as difficult a time conceiving, though their odds weren’t honestly that much better. Resting her head on his shoulder as he held her, she felt her heart beating hard against his chest. Sitting back to meet his eyes, she saw the true happiness shining in his hazel brown eyes.

“You truly are a wonder, Snowflake.” he beamed, gently brushing his calloused thumb against her cheek.

“I wish you would have told me you were moving your chambers, Varric. Imagine my surprise when I saw... Who is she?” Bianca asked, staring at Varric and Wynter.

“Not that you were invited here, but this is my fiance, Wynter.” Varric retorted, moving Wynter’s leg back around him. “How did you get in?”

“I picked the lock, of course.” Bianca said, moving tentatively closer.

“Looks like I need to build you a better lock.” Varric said, glancing back at the elven woman.

“And it needs to be enchanted so this sort of thing doesn’t happen again.” Wynter replied, smoothing out her skirts as she turned to face the woman.

“Varric, what’s going on?” Bianca repeated.

“Well, Wynter and I were just about to celebrate the fact that we’re going to be parents before you interrupted. What did you want anyway, Bianca?” Varric asked, his voice agitated.

“I... I was coming to...”

“What? Catch up on old times?” Varric gruffed. “No thanks. I’ve got something better than _memories_.” he smirked, taking Wynter’s hand and kissing it.

“I don’t understand...” Bianca started, furrowing her brow. “You said you’d always...”

“That was before you married Whatshisname. You moved on, Bianca. So have I. Wynter’s the future I always wanted. The future you squashed in the sand when you broke my heart.”

“I love you, Varric. Isn’t that enough?” Bianca said, folding her arms across her chest.

“I used to think it was. Now I see that I was living a lie, trying to be what _you_ wanted me to be. You never cared about what _I_ wanted, Bianca. Wynter _does_.” Varric growled, moving to stand before the woman.

“She’s a mage, isn’t she?” Bianca chuffed.

“So what if she is?” Varric answered.

“She’s enchanted you, hasn’t she? She’s used her magic to make you fall in love with her.” Bianca accused.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Varric argued. “She’s not that kind of woman.”

“Get away from her, Varric! I’ll put a stop to this!” Bianca ordered, drawing her bow from her back.

Blinking her eyes, Wynter barely had time to register Varric shouting at the woman to stop before the arrow plunged deep into her left shoulder. Crying out as the missile buried itself deep in her flesh, she paled as she watched her blood spilling freely from the wound. Looking up as her door suddenly burst open, she saw a large, hairy human grab hold of Bianca and clap shackles on her. Her vision swam in and out, becoming blurry as she fought to stay awake.

“Shit! Get Bull and Dorian!” Varric shouted as guards filled the room. “Hold on, Snowflake. Stay with me, and just hold on.”

Crying out as Varric lifted her in his arms, she felt her head becoming light. It was difficult to do as he asked and stay awake, especially when her body just wanted to float away. His voice kept her grounded however, and she used that as the anchor that kept her in place. Hearing the Tevinter’s voice as he rushed in the room, she sighed at the sensation of his healing magic washing over her.

“The arrow’s stuck in the bone. It’s sticking out a little on the back side, but it can’t come out the same way it went in.” Bull said gently. “It’s going to have to be pushed through.”

“Shit.” Varric muttered, holding her close.

“She’ll need something to bite down on... This is going to hurt.” Dorian added, meeting the dwarf’s eyes.

“My belt is over there, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing it, Tiny.”

Seeing the large Qunari retrieve the item, Wynter held tightly to Varric’s hand as he slipped it between her teeth. The pain was already intense, she didn’t want to think of how much worse it was going to become before it got better. Nodding her head when asked if she was ready, she closed her eyes tightly as the horned man positioned himself over her so that he could carefully shove the missile through her shoulder.

The pain was blinding, and Wynter felt sure she would die from the agony of it all. Dorian’s gentle healing magic was quick to soothe the worst of it, else she surely would have succumbed. Feeling the arrow finally pop free, she watched as her vision became dark. Varric’s face was the last thing she saw before everything went completely black.


	11. Chapter 11

Waking up some time later, Wynter smiled weakly as she saw Varric sitting beside her. His head hung in his hands, his fingers in his disheveled hair. Gingerly placing a hand to her shoulder, she felt the heavy bandage that covered where the arrow had pierced her alabaster skin. Struggling to sit up, she felt her love’s hand slip behind her to give her support as Varric’s eyes suddenly turned to face her.

He looked haggard, as though he hadn’t slept in days. His face sported a glorious strawberry blonde beard, and his eyes were lined with dark circles under the redness. His clothes appeared to have been slept in for the last several days, and his voice was rasp from lack of use. 

“Remind me to stay away from your ex girlfriends.” she said softly, her throat dry.

“I thought she’d killed you.” Varric replied, carefully pulling her into his arms as tears silently slipped from his eyes.

“Apparently, it takes more than an angry former lover to do that, so I think we’re good.” she teased lightly.

“I don’t have to worry about that myself, do I?” he smirked, sitting back slightly.

“What? A crazy jealous former lover? No, he died in the fire in the Halamshiral alienage. Unless he somehow rises from the grave and I take an interest in the undead, I think we’re safe.” she grinned.

Hissing as she tried to move her arm to adjust her seating a bit, she thanked Varric for granting her the help she needed once again. Looking toward the door as it opened, she smiled as she watched the Inquisitor enter the room.

“I heard there was an attack. Are you two alright?” Mariah asked, spinning a chair before sitting on it by the bed.

“I’m better now that she’s awake.” Varric said, kissing Wynter’s hand. “Where’s Bianca?”

“In the cells. I wanted to wait to bring her to judgement until after I’d spoken with you two first. I know she was your lover, Varric, but this can’t be ignored. We need to do something about her.”

“Just don’t kill her. That would be like poking a dragon’s nest with a colony of giant dragons I don’t think anyone wants that.” Varric replied. “Other than that, I couldn’t really care less.”

“Okay. Let’s have a look at that wound, then.” Mariah said, getting to her feet.

“Could you, uh... Also check on the baby?” Varric asked nervously.

“A baby? I thought you didn’t like caves.” Mariah teased.

“This isn’t a cave. It’s a special tunnel designed with me in mind, and access granted only to me.” Varric smirked.

“Why is it all you men think you have to come up with goofy names for our lady parts?” Mariah asked, gently peeling back the bandage.

“Does the term ‘glove’ fit better?” Varric snickered.

“Andraste’s ass. I hope you’re ready to deal with this weirdo long term, Wynter.” Mariah chuckled.

“Oh, I can take him. I can take all he has to give, every delicious inch.” Wynter replied, grinning at the dwarf.

“Maker’s balls. I should have known he’d find someone who’s as bad at puns as he is.” Mariah laughed. “You’re both fine. Dorian does good work.”

“I should hope so, given how many times I’ve had to put _you_ back together.” the man smirked, leaning himself against the doorway. “How is our lovely patient today?”

“Mom and baby are both fine. It was a good thing you got there when you did.” Mariah said, getting to her feet and making her way over to the man.

“Once Blackwall had the woman in custody, he wasted no time in coming to the tavern where Bull and I were drinking that cheap ale he so loves.” Dorian replied.

“Blackwall? Was that the scruffy looking man with all the hair?” Wynter asked, sipping the broth Varric passed her.

“Sure was. He has a knack for being in the right place at the right time.” Varric answered.

“I’ll have to thank the man when next I see him.” Wynter smiled.

“You and me both, Snowflake. You and me both.”

Closing her eyes as Varric sweetly kissed the top of her head, she felt relieved to know the babe she carried hadn’t been harmed when Bianca had shot her. She’d lost a lot of blood from the wound, making her worry that her body would abort the child in favor of her life. Fortunately for them both, such a thing hadn’t been necessary. Thanking the mages as they left her alone with Varric, she scooted over on the bed so that he could lay beside her. Setting her cup down, she curled up into his chest before drifting into a weary sleep.

The days that passed saw Wynter recovering from her wound. Bull had brought a potion for her he swore would fix anything that ailed her, though it tasted like the dregs of Lake Calenhad. It was only after she’d finished it that she was told the ‘potion’ was actually a ‘poultice’. Getting slowly to her feet, she smiled as she watched Varric enter her apartment. She’d returned once it had been cleaned up, and he’d put a new lock in for her. Still, the attack had made her nervous about going back. She had a shop to run however, and she couldn’t postpone her duties to her customers.

“How are you feeling, my lovely Snowflake?” he asked, smiling brightly at her.

“Like a gallon of wine and a serious beating, but better.” she smirked. “The wound is closed, albeit tender, thanks to Dorian and that sludge Bull had me drink. Nasty stuff, that.”

“That’s because it was a poultice. You weren’t supposed to drink it.” Varric chuckled. “Course, knowing Bull and Dorian the way I do, the taste couldn’t be much worse than the swill they call ale.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.” Wynter snickered.

“Not to change the subject, but the Inquisitor was wondering if you were ready to face Bianca. She’s been locked up since the attack a week ago, sealed in with enchanted locks and under heavy guard. Her fate ultimately rests in your delicate hands.” Varric smiled gently.

“Then let us go face her. The sooner I can put her behind me, the better.”

Taking the hand Varric held out for her, she made her way toward the dungeon. Offering the guards a warm smile, she approached the cell that housed the dwarf. She was dirty, not having been afforded many luxuries as a prisoner, and her eyes were quick to snap to Varric’s. Watching her get to her feet and approach the bars, she stood as tall as she could, making sure to look down at the woman with a disgusted sneer.

“Varric, please. Tell them to let me go.” Bianca pleaded.

“Not a chance, Bianca. You almost killed the woman I love, the woman who carries my child.” Varric replied.

“She’s a _mage_, Varric. She’s cast a spell on you to _make_ you love her! She’s no doubt _lied_ about the child to keep you in her clutches!” Bianca retorted.

“If you doubt the validity of my claim as to the existence of a baby, perhaps you should speak to the Inquisitor or Dorian. They both tended to me after you shot me. As for the spell you think I’ve cast on Varric, if that were true, how then, was I unable to heal my own wound that _you_ created? And yes. I _am_ a mage. But to work the magic you accuse me of takes someone with far greater skill than I possess.” Wynter stated.

“She’s _lying_, Varric! She...”

“That’s _enough_, Bianca. You had your chance to be with me, but you chose Bogdan. You left me standing at the altar, waiting for you to arrive, only to later learn that you’d married the guy your parents picked out for you. You always suckered me into believing you cared, _lied_ to me about your desire to _leave_ your husband, but now I see you just didn’t want to share me with anyone else. You’re actually _jealous_ because you can’t have what Wynter and I do.” Varric interrupted. “The decision of what to do with her is in your hands, Snowflake.” Varric finished, turning to Wynter.

“Her actions have shown that she’s a danger to our happiness, and I _refuse_ to allow her the opportunity to finish what she attempted to do. The life of our babe is more precious to me than anything else in the world. I think she should be dropped in an oubliette, and a message sent to the Merchant’s Guild, informing them of her actions. Once they decide what to do with her, she can then be released to their custody. If I’ve learned _anything_ about the Merchant’s Guild, it’s that they don’t tolerate violating their rules. She isn’t supposed to be on the same continent as you, yes? What do you suppose will happen to her once they learn of her betrayal?” Wynter said, turning to meet her lover’s eyes.

“She’ll be banned from all of Thedas. She could be removed from her family’s lineage for being a disgrace, as well as being exiled from her husband. Basically, it’ll ruin her.” Varric answered, looking from Wynter to the other woman.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Bianca growled.

“Oh, I’m afraid I would. You see, I love Varric for all that he is and more. If your presence here in Thedas jeopardises his safety in any way, I’ll do everything in my power to ensure he’s protected. Even if that means you have to take the fall you so rightly deserve.”

“You don’t have the _authority_ to judge me!” Bianca snapped.

“But _I do_.” Mariah said, moving to stand with Varric and Wynter.

“You’re not in charge of...” Biance began.

“I’m afraid I _am_. You see, all of Thedas looks to me to settle disputes, seal rifts, and stop Corypheus. I didn’t _ask_ for the title or the position that comes with it, it was dropped in my lap after the fall of Haven. When I make a recommendation, people usually listen.” Mariah interrupted. “You suggest we drop her in an oubliette, Lady Wynter?”

“Indeed, Inquisitor. If she were to remain in a cell, she could potentially bribe a guard to unlock it. An oubliette would keep her where she is until you decide what her fate should be.”

“Very well. Guards, take the prisoner to the oubliette. I’ll deal with her once the Merchant’s Guild arrives.” Mariah said, turning to look at her troops.

“No! You can’t _do_ this to me! Varric, tell them...”

“Forget it, Bianca. You screwed up, you need to face the music.” he interrupted.

Slipping her hand in his, Wynter left the dungeon with him, Bianca’s screams of protest echoing off the stone walls. Smiling as the Inquisitor joined them in the brilliant light of the sun, she thanked her for helping deal with the dwarf as she did. She felt excited at seeing what the Merchant’s Guild would do with the woman, and hoped they would arrive soon after receiving their message. Varric was Deshyr of Kirkwall to the Guild, which would mean he had a vote on her fate. Giving his hand a squeeze, she let a sigh of relief that this part of his life was finally closed.

In the days that passed, Wynter often found herself humming. She had been working busily for the change in fashion she’d created, receiving dozens of orders for her new designs. She’d also started feeling a little ill in the mornings, a common side effect of the babe’s presence. Hearing word that the Merchant’s Guild would be arriving the following day, she prepared herself for the trial to come. Sleep was difficult, as her nerves were on edge, though Varric was quick to help her calm down enough to sleep. His voice was so pleasing to her, that she was soon drifting off into a blissful slumber.

Rising early the next day, Wynter bathed and put on her best clothing. She looked the very picture of grace and elegance, her hair pulled up neatly in an array of braids and curls. Waiting until Varric was ready, she took the arm he offered her and made her way to the Great Hall. Pausing at the entrance, she felt her stomach flip again, warning her she would soon be sick. Turning quickly for the bushes, she lost the little she’d been able to eat that morning, leaving her trembling for several brief moments. Varric’s hand on her back was comforting, as it helped her to feel she wasn’t suffering this pregnancy alone.

Collecting herself, she took the swig of water Bull offered her, swishing it about before spitting it out. Straightening herself up, she then made her way into the Hall with the others. Spotting a large, hairy man, she smiled warmly as she heard Varric introduce him as Hero, otherwise known as Blackwall. Thanking him for his help with Bianca, she blushed prettily as he took her hand in his and kissed it politely.

“Hey now, Hero. This one’s mine, go find your own.” Varric chuckled, taking her hand in his.

“I’ve no interest in taking your lovely lady from you. Josephine and I get along just fine without the addition of another woman.” he smirked.

“Ruffles? I didn’t think you were getting anywhere with her.” Varric teased.

“Cassandra gave me a book to read, told me it would help win her heart. Some book about swords...”

“Wait... You read ‘Swords and Shields’, and _that_ won her over?” Varric chuckled.

“It was ‘romantic’. Cassandra swore it would teach me all the right things to say to a Lady, and it did.” Blackwall argued.

“Who’d have thought a tough, hairy guy like you would have a soft side...” Varric smirked.

“Say that again, dwarf, and I’ll show you just how ‘soft’ I really am.”

“Don’t need to see what’s in your pants, Hero. Got one of those myself.” Varric chuckled.

“Ah, but yours is only soft when you’re away.” Wynter chimed in.

“Maker’s balls, don’t you two ever quit?” Blackwall said, slightly exasperated.

“Sadly, no. stick around long enough, and their puns get worse.” Mariah smiled, looking from the hairy man to Varric.

“Like you’re any better when _Curly’s_ around, Torch.” Varric snickered. “Can’t get any rest around you two, you’re like wild animals.”

“It’s because he’s got bi...” Blackwall began.

“Let’s get inside. I’m sure everyone’s waiting for us.” Mariah interrupted.

Laughing as she made her way into the Hall, Wynter moved to stand beside the Commander as Bianca was brought forward. Varric had to stand with the Merchant’s Guild, given his status within their ranks. Watching as Mariah claimed the throne, she knew right away why she was so feared by those facing judgement. She cut an impressing, if not imposing figure seated there, the weight of her title bolstering her like a fiery beast. Hearing her call for Bianca to be brought in, she tensed, unsure why the woman brought out such anxiety. Perhaps it was all the members of the Guild that moved in behind her that was unnerving. Spinning slightly as a heavy hand moved to rest on her shoulder, she saw the Commander offering her a small, reassuring smile.

“Bianca Davri. You stand before myself and those of the Merchant’s Guild that were able to attend. Your crime: Firing a deadly weapon at an unarmed, pregnant woman out of jealousy. What have you to say in your defense?” Mariah stated loudly, ensuring everyone in the Hall could hear her.

“I was trying to free Varric of the _spell_ she’d cast on him!” Bianca answered, turning to look at Wynter.

“There are sufficient people willing to testify as to the lack of Lady Wynter’s ability to cast such powerful magic.” the Commander said, placing his gauntleted hand on the pommel of his sword.

“And how would _you_ know? She could be deceiving _you_!” Bianca accused, looking to the Commander.

“As a former Templar, I am _more_ than capable of assessing her ability, and as such, can offer all assurance that she lacks the skill to cast the magic you accuse her of.”

“You’re _lying_!” Bianca screamed.

“On the contrary. There are i>several mages here who will gladly attest to being my Wards, both during the Blight, as well as from the Kirkwall Circle before it fell.” Cullen retorted.

“Indeed. Will the representative of the Merchant’s Guild please step forth?” Mariah asked, turning to face Bianca once again.

Watching an older man step forward, she watched as he glared daggers at Bianca. Seeing Mariah motion to Bull, Dorian, and Blackwall to step forth as well, she looked to each of the men.

“Warden Blackwall. You heard the commotion coming from Lady Wynter’s residence, did you not?”

“I did, Inquisitor.”

“Will you describe what you heard and saw?”

“Of course, your Worship. I was making my way to the tavern for a nightly drink, when I heard shouting coming from Lady Wynter’s apartment. As I arrived, I saw the dwarf fire a single shot towards the Lady before rushing out of the house. I managed to capture her, and took her to the dungeon. Afterwards, I went to the tavern to collect the Iron Bull and Dorian, knowing the Lady needed help.”

“Thank you, Warden Blackwall. Lord Pavus... What did you see when you arrived at the apartment?” Mariah asked, turning to face him.

“Lady Wynter had an arrow protruding from her left shoulder, just above her heart. She was bleeding profusely, and given her lack of ability, unable to stop the flow. The arrow had gone clean through, only stopping as it emerged from the shoulder blade on the other side.” Dorian replied.

“And what happened then?” Mariah questioned.

“I told Varric that it had to be pushed all the way through, as the barbs on the blades of the arrow prevented it from going out the way it came.” Bull began. “Dorian grabbed one of Varric’s belts for her to bite down on, before focusing his magic on keeping her from bleeding to death while I pulled it out the other side. She lost consciousness during the procedure.”

“Master Tethras? You witnessed the attack first hand, what was the reasoning for Bianca to take such action against Lady Wynter?” Mariah asked, turning to face him.

“She broke into Lady Wynter’s apartment by picking the lock. She was looking for me, as she wanted to... uh... ‘catch up on old times’. When I told her I was with Lady Wynter, and that she carried my child, she flew into a jealous rage. I tried to stop her, though she got the shot off before I could do so.” Varric answered.

“As I understood it, she wasn’t supposed to be anywhere _near_ you, is that correct?” Mariah stated, turning toward the older dwarf.

“Aye. Master Dolniac Sarvol, your Worship.They were banned from being within a hundred leagues of each other after nearly starting a clan war. From what our sources have relayed to us, Varric has kept up on his end of the arrangement, with the exception of a few times when Bianca went to him. Rather than turning her away, he allowed her to visit, and will be punished accordingly for his actions.” the man said, turning back to look at Varric.

“And what punishment might that be, Master Sarvol?” Mariah questioned.

“Six months suspension from the Guild, and a fine of five thousand soverigns.” the man replied.

“What would you say to suspending his sentence, given his actions thus far to assist in bringing about the downfall of Corypheus?” Mariah queried.

“If he survives, aye. His debt will be eliminated.” Master Sarvol answered.

“As for the fine, speak with Lady Josephine. She’ll cover the cost, as I have no wish to see him unable to care for, and provide for the child he has coming with Lady Wynter. Regarding Bianca Davri. What would you wish to see happen to her for her actions?” Mariah questioned, arching a brow.

Watching as the man went back to the other Deshyrs, Wynter strained to hear as they whispered amongst themselves. Seeing a few of their eyes turn to her, she subconsciously placed a hand over her belly, as though wanting to shield it from the men and women that looked her over. Swallowing hard as the man returned to face Mariah, she felt the hand on her shoulder give it a gentle squeeze.

“The Deshyrs have voted, your Worship. It is our decision to ban the traitor from working in any of the following countries comprising Thedas: Ferelden, Orlais, Rivain, Antiva, the Free Marches, Nevarra, Tevinter, Par Vollen and Seheron. Furthermore, all her unsold wares in those same countries are to be destroyed, and she is stripped of her cast and exiled from the aforementioned countries.” the man stated.

“NO! You can’t do this to me!” Bianca yelled.

“It shall be done, Master Sarvol. Guards, release the prisoner to the members of the Merchant’s Guild, where they may carry out the sentence they have agreed upon” Mariah stated.

Bianca’s cries of protest echoed through the hall as she was dragged away. Seeing Varric wait until they’d all vanished through the doors, she watched as he turned slowly. There was a brief hint of sadness in his eyes, though that vanished the moment he saw her. Making her way toward him, she squealed as he lifted her in the air, spinning her several times before setting her lightly on her feet. They were free of the woman now, free to live their lives without worry she’d return to try and destroy their happiness. Looking to the Commander and Inquisitor as they approached, she saw the soft smiles the couple gave them before making their way from the Hall. They would be leaving again in the next few days, but for now, she had all the time in the world to spend with the man she loved...


	12. Chapter 12

Spending as much time with Varric as she was able before he was to leave, she savored their time on the archery field when she wasn’t working, and curling up by the fire throughout the nights. The days that passed since the trial was held and the time the Inquisitor had wanted to leave flew by. She was reluctant to see Varric go, though she understood. Mariah had lost the baby she carried due to the exposure to the red lyrium, and the Blight it contained. She wanted to do anything to take her mind off that loss, and thus, they were heading out. The Emerald Graves were supposed to be beyond beautiful, and Wynter longed to see them for herself.

Waving goodbye as they rode out of Skyhold, Wynter turned slowly to her shop. She had work to do, though the babe seemed to have other plans for her. Racing quickly towards the nearest bush, her stomach emptied its contents as she dropped to her knees. Her body was trembling as she rest there, unsure whether or not she trusted her legs enough for her to stand. Feeling a gentle hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see the Commander smiling gently down at her.

“Are you alright, Lady Wynter?” he asked, helping her to her feet.

“The babe thought it needed more space just now, and so decided to rid me of my meager breakfast.” she smirked, accepting the flask of water he passed to her.

Swishing it around her mouth before spitting it into the bush, she took a long swig before passing the flask back.

“I heard about your loss. You have my sincerest condolences, Commander.”

“How... Thank you. It wasn’t... The Blight...”

“I know... My mother was felled by Blight sickness when I was a little girl. It’s... not easy.”

“No... I know you can take care of yourself, but if there’s anything I or the Inquisitor can do for either you or... the babe...”

“You’ll be the first to know, Commander. And... thank you.”

Returning the soft smile he gave her as he turned to leave, she could see the heartbreak in his amber eyes. He’d wanted the child as much as Mariah had, and because of the Blighted lyrium, because of _Corypheus_, that dream had been shattered. It had given the Inquisitor a fiery desire to bring the beast down, as a matter of revenge for all she’d lost. Resuming her course to her shop, she stepped inside to the familiar scent of fresh wool and wood. She’d been afraid she wouldn’t get the shipment she’d been expecting, given some of the items were made by Bianca or her people. Letting out a sigh of relief, she gathered the wool and sat to prepare it for the spinning wheel.

Varric returned a fortnight later, having fought their way though some of the Freemen of the Dales to reach a man named Fairbanks. It seemed he had information on the red Templars, and their activities in the area, and needed to be shut down as soon as possible. Sitting with her love on the sofa, she was finding it difficult for him to rest fully against her, due to the size of her belly. She was only four months along, but the babe was definitely making its presence known. When Varric suggested she rest her head on his lap,she did so willingly. It gave him the opportunity to put a large hand over where his child grew, something that brought joy to her in ways she’d only dreamed possible.

His stay wasn’t long, however, as the Commander had obtained information on Corypheus’ general, a former colleague of his named Samson. The Inquisitor wanted to act on the news as soon as possible, taking Varric away from her after only a few short days. Kissing him sweetly as he rode out with the party, Wynter sighed wearily. She’d been having a hard time sleeping, as the babe had begun to make her ribs ache. She’d been told it was likely to be a larger child, given it was half dwarf, and was feeling the weight of that now on her small body.

It was almost a month before they returned, having eliminated the Red Templars in the Emerald Graves. The babe had grown significantly since then, and was now moving regularly. Wynter was glad the nausea had finally stopped, as she was almost certain she’d lost weight, rather than gaining it, as the midwife expected her to. Varric seemed tired, more than he usually was after several days in the saddle. Fixing him a bowl of the stew she’d made, she watched how eagerly he ate once she’d passed it to him.

Something was bothering him though, she could see it in his eyes. He was more distant than he’d ever been, something that was more than a little concerning to her. When she asked him about it, he shrugged it off and blamed it on his exhaustion. He was also more reluctant to place his hands on her belly, or anywhere _else_ for that matter, giving rise to the fear there was more going on than he was telling her. Shaking her head, she chided herself for being silly. Varric wasn’t the type of man to cheat on a woman...

_He was sleeping with Bianca while she was married to Bogdan..._ her brain reminded her.

Forcing those thoughts away, she tried to make Varric’s visit as pleasant and relaxing as she possibly could. As before, it wasn’t long. There’d been reports of an ice dragon in the area, and the Inquisitor had a deep desire to kill as many dragons as she could. Bull didn’t mind, as dragon hunting was a big thing to most Qunari. Dorian often commented that he perhaps liked it a little _too_ much, as Bull usually had a determined passion shortly after that only Dorian could sate. It might have been too much information to be shared, but Bull wasn’t usually discrete about the affair between he and Dorian.

Weeks passed with no word from Varric or the others. Wynter worried that something had happened to him, though knew one of their friends would have come and told her if he had. When Bull and Dorian turned up one afternoon for a visit, she felt her heart sink. Hearing they’d initially come to invite the dwarf for a game of Wicked Grace, she felt as surprised as they were when she told them he wasn’t there.

“Didn’t he come back with you?” she asked curiously.

“Yeah, we got back last night. He didn’t come home?” Bull responded.

“I haven’t seen him... Was he injured, perhaps?” she continued.

“A little sore from our time in the saddle, but nothing unusual.” Dorian said, looking from her to Bull. “I’m sure he’ll turn up sooner or later. Worry not, good woman.”

Inviting the men to stay for supper, Wynter prepared for them a hearty roast goose with pan seared potatoes and onions, fresh bread, and a cool glass of wine. Laughing with them as they ate, she couldn’t get her mind off where Varric might have gone and why. Escorting the men to the door hours later, she glanced around the vast courtyard, hoping to spot her love in the torch lit area. Sighing, she locked the door and made her way up to her room. It wasn’t like Varric to stay away, especially given how excited he’d been when he’d heard she carried his child. Peeling off her clothing, she slipped into a soft, pale blue shift she’d woven from the finest silk. Crawling under the covers, she found sleep difficult, as her mind worried about her love, and what it was that kept him away...

Months passed, and there was still no sign of Varric. Bull and Dorian were sure to pay her a visit when they’d returned to Skyhold, though she wondered if it was out of pity, rather than a simple desire to share her company. She’d fallen into a deep depression at first, wondering what it was about her that kept Varric away. That depression soon gave way to anger however, before eventually turning to complete disregard for his lack of presence. She no longer cared where he was or what he was doing, she had bigger things to occupy her mind now. It wouldn’t be long until the babe came, and she had to prepare for its arrival.

Heading to the market to pick up some supplies she’d ordered, she stood in line while the merchant helped some of the other customers he had until it was her turn. Offering the man a warm smile, she felt herself being pushed from behind. Turning to see why the person had done so, believing it to be an accident, she swallowed the fear as the giant beast of a man glared down at her.

“Get out of the way, knife-ear.” he growled.

“I’ll gladly do so once I’ve collected my purchases.” she replied, not wanting to anger the man.

“You’ll do so _now_, you knife-eared bitch!” he shouted, shoving her away from the merchant to the muddy ground.

Turning her icy gaze up towards the man, she flinched as he spat on her.

“Knife-eared whore. She’s probably carrying some noble’s bastard.” the man chuckled, turning to speak with the merchant.

Feeling hands on her arms, she looked over her shoulder to see both the Commander and Sera pulling her to her feet.

“Lady Wynter, are you hurt?” the Commander asked gently.

“I’m fine, thank you.” she replied, trying to hide the tears that threatened to fall.

“You there!” the Commander began.

“Help her home. I’ll deal with this tit.” Sera said, looking from the Commander’s eyes to the offending man.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she saw the Commander nod before turning her away. Sera was full of hatred towards nobles, and Wynter knew that man was about to get an earful, at the very least. Reaching the door to her apartment, she shook as she pulled the key from her pocket. Looking up at the Commander as he took the small brass object from her hand, she thanked him as he put it in the lock for her.

“Are you going to be alright?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

“I’ll be fine, Commander. Thank you for walking me home.” she replied.

“It was my pleasure, Lady Wynter. And... please, call me Cullen.” he said, smiling gently at her.

Nodding her head, she watched as he turned and walked away. He was a good man, gentle and kind. She was happy he and the Inquisitor had found one another, like lost ships taking shelter at the same port to weather the storm that raged around them. Locking the door behind her, she slowly made her way to her room and peeled off her soiled dress. She’d have to clean it tomorrow, once her body wasn’t hurting as bad as it was. She knew she’d be covered in bruises come morning, and so grabbed one of the healing salves from the shelf and took it with her to the bathroom.

Running herself a hot bath, she rest her head against the rim and closed her eyes. The man’s harsh words rung in her ears, echoing what she’d been feeling for the last few months; she was an elf who carried a noble’s bastard, nothing more. It was made worse with Varric’s absence, and she was soon a mess of tears as her heart broke once again. Pulling herself together, she finished her bath, making sure to scrub the mud from her hair, before stepping out and drying off. It was difficult to apply the salve to some of the bruising areas, given she was unable to see around her large belly. It wouldn’t be long now, perhaps a week at most, before she would hold her child in her arms. She only wished Varric would be there to savor the joy that would bring them both.

The stiffness in her side had eased up considerably, thanks to the salve Bull’s healer ‘Stitches’ had given her. She’d been unable to work however, and had hired a young woman to run the shop for her while she rested. The girl was eager to learn how Wynter did things, and initially didn’t want to be paid for doing something she loved. Eventually however, Wynter convinced her to accept the wage she’d offered, telling her it was the least she could do for the help.

Sera had also stopped by the day after the assault to drop off her purchases. She’d thanked the woman, deeply grateful for her help. She knew the elf expected nothing in return, but she was determined to make something for her to show her appreciation. It didn’t take long to fashion her some new armor, using her slight magical abilities to quickly piece it together. Satisfied once it was complete, she had it delivered to Sera, with a note of gratitude. Even if Sera didn’t really expect anything, she wanted to show her she valued what the elf had done for her.

Spotting the Inquisitor, Bull, Dorian and Varric riding in early one afternoon, Wynter wondered if the man would actually come to see her. It was his birthday, after all, and she wanted only to share it with him. She prepared a small cake, and a nice meal, hoping he’d at least come for the food. She was only mildly disappointed when he failed to show, given she’d come to expect no less from him at this point. Eating very little, she put everything away before going to bed.

Wynter woke the following morning aching from her shoulders to her knees. The babe had been very active during the night, affording her little sleep. She knew she could go into labor any day now, as her breasts had begun to swell in preparation to nurse her child. She felt more like she was waddling now, rather than walking, and was constantly trying to stretch her back to ease the discomfort she was feeling. She’d taken to putting ice wrapped in a cloth over her stiffening back, though it afforded her little relief. Smiling as she saw Bull and Dorian heading her way, she eagerly met them at the door.

They’d started coming to visit her on a regular basis, knowing she needed to see a friendly face from time to time. She enjoyed their company, and the three of them usually ended up laughing as they teased one another about whatever caught their fancy at the time. They usually shared a meal before settling in for a few hands of Wicked Grace. She’d come to appreciate these moments, as they broke up the loneliness she often felt once the sun had gone down. Hearing a knocking at her door, she slowly got up and went to answer it. Spotting the Inquisitor standing there, she offered the woman a warm smile.

“I found something I think you lost.” the woman said, shoving Varric forward.

“Thank you, Mariah, but if he’s no wish to be found, then I’ve no wish to keep him.” Wynter replied, barely glancing down at the man.

Watching the Inquisitor smack him on the back of the head, the woman then went on to motion for Bull and Dorian to excuse themselves. Thanking them for stopping by, she closed the door and turned away from the dwarf.

“Looks like you were having a party...” Varric said as she walked away. “They come by often?”

“Is it so hard to believe that my _friends_ come to visit whenever they’re in Skyhold? It’s more than _some_ people can say.” she snipped.

“Sooo.”

“There’s supper in the icebox if your hungry, leftover birthday cake that I made for you yesterday in a glass dish on the counter. There are pillows and blankets in the closet, which should keep you more than comfortable on the sofa with the fire in the hearth.” she interrupted, making her way to the stairs.

“I can explain, Snowflake... I...”

“Save your excuses and you _pet_ names for those you _actually_ care about, Varric.” she bit quickly.

“I _do_ care about you, Snowflake. I love you...”

“If that’s love, I want no part of it.”

“I can explain...”

“I’m not your mother, your mistress or your wife. You owe me nothing, and are under no obligation to me. I _am_ just a knife-eared whore carrying a noble’s bastard, after all.”

“Who said that? I’ll...”

“Sera and the Commander already dealt with the man, so just forget it.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear that. It’s not true, you know.”

“Isn’t it? You’re of noble birth, and this _is_ your child. Given that we aren’t married, that makes the babe a bastard.”

“I know you’re angry, Snowflake, but I can explain...”

“Angry? I’m _beyond_ angry, dwarf.”

“And you have every right to be. I haven’t been here...”

“No, you haven’t. Out of the last several months, you’ve been back to Skyhold multiple times. Of those, how many times have you come to see me? To check up on me and make sure I was alright?” she snapped, spinning to face him as he stood behind her.

“Uh...”

“_Two. Just_ two. How many times have Bull and Dorian come to see me? Every. Time. They’ve. Been. Back. They care more for my welfare than _you_ do, and it’s not even _their_ child I carry! Even the Inquisitor and Commander have come to see me when they have time. _You don’t_. At this point, your presence here makes little difference to me.” Wynter growled.

Turning back to her bedroom door, she opened it swiftly, intending to slam it behind her once she was safe inside.

“I’m terrified.” Varric said, sighing defeatedly.

“Beg pardon?” Wynter asked, turning slightly to face him.

“I ran scared, ok? I’m not _father_ material, never thought I ever _would_ be...”

“Then you should’ve kept your member in your pants.”

“An impossibility when I look at you.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“It’s true, Snowflake. Every time I see you, I think about how much I love you, love _holding_ you...”

“You know nothing of love.” Wynter said, her voice soft and full of sorrow. “You weren’t there when the babe moved for the first time. You weren’t there when I suffered extreme morning sickness. You weren’t there through all the crazy food cravings I had. You weren’t there to rub the stiffness out of my back and shoulders. You weren’t there to keep me company through the long, dark nights... The last time you were here, you barely _looked_ at me, and looked less at the growing mound of our child. You just... vanished...”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Varric offered, placing a large hand on her back.

“Sleep where you wish. I need to try and rest.” Wynter stated, moving away from him and into her room.

“Bartrand was the golden boy. He was my father’s pride and joy, and a boasting point for my mother whenever she had the chance to bring him up in conversations...” Varric began, following her. “He made all the business deals, grew our family fortune, was sly in the assembly... Everything my parents wanted from a child. Me? They let do whatever I wanted, content with the son they’d always wanted Bartrand to be. They died, leaving him their title and seat in the Merchant’s Guild. Then we went to the Deep Roads with Hawke. She’d found enough investors to pay for the expedition, so off we went.

“At first, everything was fine. We located several artifacts that we knew would fetch us a handsome price, and loaded them in our packs. Then, we found a red lyrium idol. It glowed softly in the dark tunnels, and almost seemed to call to us. Bartrand couldn’t wait to get his hands on it and after he did, he caused a cave in that left us all trapped while he scurried off to the surface with his prize. But red lyrium is dangerous, and he soon started seeing things, and hearing voices. He became a danger to himself, but wouldn’t give up the statue. Eventually, he became too unstable to head house Tethras, and I was voted to replace him.

“I never wanted the responsibility that comes with such a lofty title, I was content being a simple merchant and author. I didn’t have a choice though, and was soon casting votes on one random thing or another. The point I’m trying to make here is that my parents didn’t pay a lot of attention to me. They didn’t even raise me, really. Once I was born, I was passed off to a wet nurse and left to my own devices. I don’t know how to take care of a child, hell. I barely know how to take care of _myself_. I’m scared I’ll mess something up...” he said at length, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You’re not the only one thinking that, Varric. I have no idea how to take care of a baby, I was the only child Lady Cerise had ever had... When I felt the babe move... It was a magic I’d never known possible, and it was then I knew that I’d be fine. I’d figure it out as I went along...” Wynter said softly, turning to face Varric.

“What if I screw up? The kid would be messed up for life because of me.”

“We’ll both make mistakes, but we’ll learn as we go. That is... _if_ you still want to raise this babe with me...”

“”You’re a good woman, Snowflake... I want to stay, if you’ll let me.”

Offering him a warm smile, Wynter made room for him on the bed. He only took a moment to remove his clothes, wearing only his smallclothes as he crawled in beside her. Feeling his arms pull her close, she rest her head on his chest and listened to the steady beating of his heart. His hand gently lay on her belly, to which the babe moved beneath his touch. Smiling softly at the gesture, Wynter drifted off to an easy sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Waking to the soft patter of rain against her window, Wynter sat slowly up and stretched as much as she was able. Looking to the bed beside her, she felt her heart sink. It was empty... There was no evidence that Varric had even _been_ there the previous night. Curling up as tight as she could, she felt the tears fall in earnest.

“It was all just a dream... It felt so real, but it was just a dream...” she cried to herself.

Letting her emotions have full sway, she cried for what felt like an eternity. Her heart was breaking all over again, making her feel extremely nauseous. Racing for the loo, she lost whatever remained in her stomach from the previous night, leaving her feeling weak and trembling. Drawing in several deep gulps of air, she got slowly to her feet and rinsed her mouth out. Deciding she needed a bath, she filled the tub and slid into the warm water once she’d pulled off her pale blue silk shift.

The babe moved as she rested her head against the rim, reminding her it wouldn’t be much longer before she held it in her arms. Sighing as the water started to grow chill, she quickly washed and stepped from the tub. Drying off, she pulled on a loose shirt and flowy skirt. Brushing her pearly locks, she then braided them and pulled her hair up. Taking one final look at herself in the mirror, she caught sight of the bruises that were almost healed from where the noble had pushed her down the other day. The salve worked wonders, and she was grateful Bull had brought it to her.

Letting her thoughts return to Varric and the dream she’d had, she felt the anger rise again. If he _truly_ cared about her, why would he stay away? He’d said in her dream that he was afraid, but that was a cowardly attitude to have towards one’s own child. Then there was the fact that someone else _had_ to know where he’d been hiding. Why hadn’t anyone _said_ anything to her? If she had as many friends as some of the people here _claimed_ to be, why didn’t they make Varric come to her sooner? She could understand the Commander and the Inquisitor, as they were either busy with Inquisition related stuff, or savoring what time they had in each other’s arms. It would be something she would _definitely_ be mentioning the next time she saw the others however....

Making her way downstairs, she smelled something frying in a pan. Furrowing her brow, she stepped into the kitchen to find Varric standing over the stove. He had already cooked some eggs, and was now frying up some bacon. Feeling a mix of anger and and relief for his presence, she moved slowly towards him.

“You’re... here?” she asked softly.

“Of course I’m here, Snowflake. I stayed the night, remember?” he smirked.

“I thought it had all been a dream...” she replied.

“What, that you were holding an impossibly handsome dwarf? I can see how you might think that was an incredible dream...” he chuckled. “Hungry? Of course you are. Sit, and I’ll get you some eggs and bacon.”

Doing as he said, Wynter sat lightly on one of the chairs at the small dining table. Feeling her frustration building, she met his eyes as he looked over at her.

“How many knew?” she asked.

“Knew what, Snowflake?”

“How many knew where you were hiding?”

“Oh, uh... Honestly? I don’t think anyone knew, really.”

“How could they not know? You _travel_ with the Inquisitor, Bull and Dorian, how could they not know?”

“I’m pretty good at hiding my tracks when I don’t want to be followed.”

Furrowing her brow, she could tell he was ashamed of his behavior. Watching him slip into the seat across from her, she saw him pick at the fringe of the little tablecloth she had.

“And you didn’t want to be followed because that would mean you had to come face to face with your responsibilities?”

“I’m not good at dealing with this sort of thing. Like I said last night, I was terrified. Whenever we got back to Skyhold, I would wait until everyone had gone their own way before using the shadows to slip from the castle courtyard. There’s a village just outside Skyhold’s gates, it’s where Firecrotch used to like to disappear to whenever she felt the walls closing in on her. It sprouted up practically overnight when someone spotted her in the area. They were hoping she’d visit the shops and taverns there, just to say they saw the Inquisitor in person. There’s a relatively comfortable inn there...”

“And you thought sleeping at an inn was better than coming back here and staying with me? Must’ve had some incredible company there to keep you away.”

“Not really. There were those that were eager to hear the author of the ‘Hard in Hightown’ series tell other tales besides those that happened in Kirkwall. I didn’t want to disappoint my adoring fans, and I was hoping it would take my mind off the serious responsibility I was about to be faced with. Not that I wasn’t _constantly_ reminded by Bull, Dorian and Mariah that I needed to go home to take care of you. It was a constant topic out on the road... If Bull hadn’t had someone follow me the last time, the Inquisitor wouldn’t have gotten the joy of dragging me back here by my ear so she could slap me upside the head.”

“So what would have happened if Bull _hadn’t_ had someone follow you? Would you have remained in the inn, even after the babe was born? Or would you have left the Inquisition entirely?”

“I wouldn’t leave the Inquisition, we’re too close to putting an end to Corypheus for me to walk away.”

“You wouldn’t leave the Inquisition, but you’d leave me, just to avoid the responsibility of caring for your child...” Wynter retorted, her frustration giving way to anger.

“What? No! I wouldn’t leave you to raise the baby by yourself...”

“You just wouldn’t want to be faced with the responsibility. Fair weather father, is that it?”

“Of course not!” Varric sighed, knowing she was right, to an extent.

“And what about the woman? What was her name?”

“What do you mean? What woman?”

“You don’t think you’d be the first man to seek the attention of another woman when his partner is heavy with his child, do you? What was her name?”

“There _wasn’t_ another woman, Snowflake. I swear on Andraste’s ass. You’re the only woman I want or need.”

“I guess I’ll have to ask Bull to look into that claim, won’t I?”

“No, you won’t, Snowflake. If I was willing to give up _Bianca_ for _you_, and I’d loved her since I’d met her, then how could I ever conceive of replacing _you_ with anyone else? There isn’t a woman alive that could ever compare to your grace and beauty, Snowflake.” Varric said, lightly brushing her cheek..

“I don’t understand how you could have been so cold and distant to me. The last time you were here, you barely looked at me. You touched me even less, as though I carried some sort of plague...”

“I’ve told you I’m an idiot when it comes to stuff like this, right? Because of my own stupidity, I missed out on some pretty great things, but mostly, I missed out on being there for you.”

The sincerity in his tone broke her anger and frustration. His eyes showed true remorse for his actions, and while she still held some resentment, she felt herself believing him. Swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat, she tried to fight off the tears that slipped softly over her cheeks.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again...” she spoke softly.

“Hey... It’s ok, Snowflake. I’m not going anywhere, not for a few days, anyway.”

Meeting his eyes, she closed hers as he gently brushed the tears from her cheeks. The action only served to make her cry more, to which he moved to a closer chair and sat beside her. Taking her into his arms, Varric rubbed her back as she buried her face into his chest. She was highly emotional just now, and needed to feel his arms holding her. After a time, he pulled back slightly and looked over at her.

“Your breakfast is getting cold, Snowflake. Eat up.” he said gently.

Turning her attention to the food on her plate, Wynter picked up a piece of bacon and took a small bite. Feeling her hunger wash over her in a tide, she soon had the first piece devoured, and was on to the next. Gulping down some of the apple juice he’d poured for her, she met his eyes as he watched her eat. Licking her lips, she smiled shyly as she started in on her eggs. Overall, he wasn’t a _bad_ cook though he could have added a few spices, just to make the eggs less bland.

Curling up in his arms as he moved to the sofa before the fire, she listened as he related everything that had happened in the Arbor Wilds. Hearing Varric mention the Well of Sorrows, she furrowed her brow. She could swear she’d heard of an old Dalish legend of the elven Goddess Mythal, though the details were fuzzy at best. She had wanted the Great Mother’s vallaslin when she was old enough, as she felt a great connection to the goddess as a young child, despite her clan’s fear of her.

She’d also heard that since their return, the elven mage Solas had frequently visited the Inquisitor’s room. She knew there was a mutual indifference between them, which made his sudden interest in her odd. She wondered if it had anything to do with the new babe Mariah carried, as Varric suspected, though knew they would all have to wait for confirmation from her, if that actually was the case.

As suppertime approached, Wynter got to her feet and went to prepare them a meal. As had become the custom, Bull and Dorian arrived shortly after it was ready, and claimed their seats at the table. Smiling as she set their plates before them, she felt the babe give a mighty kick, causing her to wince in pain. Placing her hand over her belly, she wondered just how much time she had left before she delivered. She desperately hoped Varric would be there too, as it was something no father should ever really miss. Feeling Dorian’s calm, healing energy wash over her, she let out a sigh of relief.

“So, any wagers on when this monster will come?” Wynter asked, looking around the table.

“Knowing my luck, it’ll come when we’re not here.” Varric chuffed.

“Bull? Thoughts?” Wynter smiled.

“If I’m guessing right, I’d say by the week’s end.” the man replied.

“Four days, tops.” Dorian added.

“Good thing I’ve got everything ready then, isn’t it?” Wynter smirked.

“Snowflake, I think you were _born_ ready.” Varric chuckled.

“I hadn’t expected to carry the baby of a dwarf, as elves aren’t hairy at all. The fur’s grown on me, though.” she chuckled.

“You mean it’s spreading?” Dorian asked in mock horror. “Maker’s breath, Bull! I don’t think we should visit the lovely Wynter when Varric’s around, all that hair might migrate to one of _us_!”

“You know you’d enjoy shaving my back, especially since that’s where it would likely grow.” Bull chuckled. “Or you could pluck the hair one strand at a time... I like it when it hurts.”

“You are far too easy, amatus. Given the promise of pain, you’re stripped naked waiting for me to hurt you.” Dorian smirked.

“That’s because you do it right, kadan.” Bull winked.

“Andraste’s ass, don’t tell me you’re going to start that here too... Don’t I get enough of it on the road?” Varric smirked.

“Awe, you can never have _too_ much smut banter among friends.” Wynter grinned.

“Yeah, except _I’m_ usually the butt of their jokes.” Varric chuckled.

“Well, you _do_ usually bring up the tail end...” Bull chuckled.

“Only when your _ass_ isn’t in my way.” Varric teased. “Besides. It’s usually _Dorian_ getting the tail end, not me. I always use the _front_ door, I never sneak around to the _back..._”

“Probably a good thing, considering you’re not very good at sneaking.” Bull smirked. “My guy found you in less than an hour after I asked him to.”

“That’s only because I didn’t cover my tracks. I could have easily remained hidden...” Varric grinned.

“Oh? Hidden from me as well?” Wynter asked, arching a delicate, tapered eyebrow at him.

“Who wants to play some Wicked Grace?” Varric offered, changing the subject.

Snickering at his sudden discomfort, Wynter watched as he went to get the cards. Several hands later saw her coin purse a little heavier, and a grumpy look on Bull’s face. She wondered if he was letting her win, or if he’d been too distracted with Dorian to pay close attention to his hand. Walking them to the door, she bid them both a good night before locking it up. Turning to Varric, she smiled to herself as she watched him cleaning up. Pressing a hand to the small of her back, she took a moment to stretch out the stiffness before heading for the stairs.

“You ok there, Snowflake?” Varric asked, moving to follow her.

“Just tired, that’s all. I haven’t been sleeping well, as this little one thinks they need to be squirmy while I’m trying to rest.” she smiled softly.

“Well, let’s get you to bed then. You trying to do anything more than just resting is too much. I’ll tell those two that their dinner plans can wait unless they want to do all the cooking and cleaning.” Varric said gently, an undertone of seriousness in his voice.

Nodding her head, Wynter made the long climb up the stairs to their room. Slipping into her little blue silk gown, she crawled into bed and was almost instantly asleep. She could feel Varric slip in beside her, pulling her close as her eyes fluttered softly closed. She was so tired that she doubted there would be anything that could keep her awake just then. The warmth that surrounded her in Varric’s arms was all she needed just then to take her to the land of dreams.

The few days that followed were much the same, though Varric had informed both Bull and Dorian that if they wished to come for supper, they would either have to cook for them, or bring something along. Wynter was grateful for the break from the stove, though she questioned what it was her friends were feeding her. Meeting Varric’s eyes as he told her they needed to leave the morning of day four, she felt a great wash of sadness come over her. She didn’t want him to go, but knew the Inquisitor needed him. She’d found the altar of Mythal, and needed to go there to summon the goddess in the hopes of getting her help in the fight against Corypheus. If the darkspawn Magister wasn’t stopped, the world as they knew it would come to an end...

The days that followed seemed to stretch into eternity. Wynter found sleep impossible, as she was both concerned for Varric, and the babe kept her awake most of the night by stretching its legs and feet up into her ribs. Finishing her bath one morning, she went to make herself some tea. She didn’t have much of an appetite either, something she knew would worry her love if he knew. Pressing her hand to the small of her back as it began to cramp, she tried to stretch through the pain that was fast consuming her. Feeling sweat spring to her brow, she nearly doubled over as the first contraction gripped her.

Crying out as her water broke, she let her cup of tea fall to the floor, shattering as she tried to grip the counter. Hearing a voice calling to her from the other side of the door to her apartment, she fought through the blinding pain to go and answer it. Seeing the Commander staring down at her, she felt his hand catch her as she nearly dropped to the ground.

“Lady Wynter...” he began.

“My water broke... The babe is coming... please... fetch the midwife...” she panted through clenched teeth.

“Right away. I’ll send someone to watch over you in the meantime.” he stated.

Nodding, Wynter started towards the stairs. She needed to get to her room, where everything stood ready. She knew baring a child would be painful, but this was more intense than she’d imagined. Hearing footsteps racing up her stairs, she turned to see one of the Commander’s soldiers standing in the doorway.

“Is the midwife...” she began softly.

“She was indisposed at the tavern. Told the Commander that the knife ear could birth her own bastard, as that’s what all them elfy types were supposed to do. He had her locked up, but is riding off now to try and reach the Inquisitor and your friends. They were due back today as it was, and he’s off to try and meet them on the road.” the woman replied.

“Is there no one else?” Wynter asked desperately.

“I was to come tell you what the Commander was doing so you wouldn’t worry before I went to find the surgeon or a mage capable of bringing your babe. I promise, my lady. I’ll return as soon as I am able.”

Nodding, Wynter watched as the soldier disappeared down the stairs. Making her way slowly toward her tub, she knew that would be the best place for her to bring the babe should help fail to arrive in time. Gathering a blanket, scissors and thread, she climbed slowly into the marble bath and set everything within easy reach around her. Pain clouded her vision as she was racked with one contraction after another, her body trying desperately to push the babe from her womb. Feeling it finally slip free, she brought the child to her chest to look him over.

Tears fell from her eyes as she looked on the screaming face of her son. His hair was as black as the night on a moonless sky, just as her mother’s had been, but he bore his father’s features. Washing him gently with water flowing from the faucet of the tub, she cut the umbilical and tied it off with some fine thread. She could feel her own body growing weaker by the moment, her vision beginning to fade with every beat of her heart. Holding her son to her breast to suckle, she savored the feel of him in her arms at last. Pulling the blanket over them for warmth, she slowly lost consciousness as blood continued to seep from the depths of her core...


	14. Chapter 14

_Silence..._

_The light had long since faded, blanketing the room in an inky darkness. Even the fire in the hearth had dwindled to nothing but embers, allowing a chill to settle over the bodies laying in the marble bath. Sitting up slowly, Wynter looked down at the babe in her arms. He was sleeping soundly, though he wasn’t in _her_ arms, he was nestled in her _body’s_ arms..._

_Rising slowly, she saw the blood that covered her legs and feet. It had been a difficult birth, as her son had been born breach. He was healthy though, and had nursed hungrily as she’d brought him to her breast. She’d been unable to stop the bleeding however, as she wasn’t a very strong healer, after all. Looking down at her form, she could feel it in her own chest... the faintest of heart beats, signaling there was still life, if someone could get there fast enough to revive her._

_The Commander had ridden hard in the hopes of bringing Varric and the others back, the soldier had said so. She felt it in her heart, and knew without a doubt that the man had pushed his mount as fast as it could go. She wondered if he’d reached them and was now on his way back._

_She felt wispy, lighter than air. Gliding effortlessly through the apartment, she heard a noise just outside. It was the sound of urgency, something she felt, rather than actually heard. Moving down the stairs, she watched as the horses pulled up right outside. Varric, Dorian, Bull, Cullen and Mariah all dismounted in unison, reaching the door directly behind her love. Smiling lightly, she knew they would find her, and hoped it wouldn’t be too late..._

“Snowflake? Where are you?” Varric called, blinking in the darkness.

A fire sprung into the hearth at Mariah’s command, instantly filling the room with light and warmth. The group spread out through the apartment quickly, each calling out to Wynter. She wished she could respond, but her body lay in the bath upstairs, too weak to even open her eyes. Looking to Dorian as he followed Varric up the steps, she knew the men would reach her before the last vestiges of life slipped from her dying corpse...

“Snowflake?” Varric called again as he entered the room.

As before, the fire in the hearth sprung to life, this time under Dorian’s command. Wynter felt the warmth seep into her weary bones, and managed to raise a hand just enough to direct them to where she lay. Healing magic washed over her as both men dropped to her side. Her whole being let out a sigh of relief, as she felt the bleeding stop, and her body starting to recover. Meeting Varric’s concerned eyes, she offered him the best smile she could muster.

“Snowflake?” he said softly.

Letting him pull back the blanket covering her just enough to show him the babe, she licked her dry lips as she spoke.

“Our son is healthy...” she whispered, unable to speak any louder.

“Our... _son_?” Varric asked, carefully lifting the boy from her arms.

Smiling sweetly, she watched as he cradled the babe close to his chest. The soft cooing noises the boy made as he snuggled into the fur that covered his father warmed her heart. Feeling a hand on the blanket that covered her, she turned her eyes to see Dorian attempting to pull it down. Clutching the material to her as she met his gaze, she shook her head ever so slightly. Letting her eyes fall to Varric before returning to his, she knew the man understood her silent gesture.

“Varric, why don’t you take your son to show him to the Inquisitor? I’m sure she’s more than anxious to know he’s alright.” Dorian said, clearing his throat.

“Why?” Varric asked, looking from his son to the mage. “Snowlake? No... I’m not leaving her again...”

Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, she looked slightly away as Dorian moved the blanket slowly off of her. The gasp of surprise that left Dorian’s lips was soon followed by Varric’s exclamation of ‘shit’. Closing her eyes, she felt the sting of salty tears as they slipped softly over dry cheeks.

“The midwife wouldn’t come. She said knife ears could bring their own babies, or die trying...” she began softly. “I’m not a healer... I couldn’t stop the bleeding...”

“Dorian...” Varric breathed.

“Take care of your son, Varric. Leave me to the healing.” Dorian stated, not letting the dwarf finish his plea. “You have my word, I’ll do all that I can.”

Meeting Varric’s eyes as he looked down at her, she tried to reassure him with a smile. She could tell it didn’t help, not really, and as she heard him move off, she realized he hadn’t gone down the stairs. Turning to face Dorian, she saw the determination on his face as he forced her body to heal.

“I’m sorry to be a bother...” she began. “I just couldn’t think of any other way to draw attention to myself.” she smirked slightly.

Even as close to death as she was, she just couldn’t help but make light of the situation. She knew it wouldn’t offer Varric any real comfort, but then again, it was all she was capable of at the moment. Seeing him appear at the edge of the bath, she watched as the others slowly approached.

“The midwife is in the cells. I’ll make sure she pays with her life for nearly costing you yours.” Mariah said firmly.

“What is it about me that makes women I’ve never, or barely met, want to kill me?” Wynter smirked. “Do I just have one of those faces?”

“They’re obviously jealous of your ravishing beauty, Snowflake. All others pale in comparison to your shimmering skin.” Varric smiled.

“Guess I’d better get some sun then, just to make sure they don’t see me sparkling in the light.” Wynter grinned.

“I thought sparkling was Dorian’s job.” Mariah grinned, looking at the man. “Need any help?”

“I’d be delighted.” Dorian replied, turning his tired eyes to the Inquisitor.

Feeling the combined energy washing over her, she sighed in relief. An hour ago, she was certain she was going to die. Her body was so weak, and she was unable to stop the blood from seeping out of her core. She’d been fearful as to what would happen to both Varric and their son without her there to care for them, but now, she knew everything would be fine. The Inquisitor’s magic was... _different_ though. Where Dorian’s was gentle, hers flowed with an undertone of aggression, _demanding_ her body to heal, rather than helping it, as the Tevinter’s was.

Watching the man pull back wearily, she saw Bull come quickly to his aid and help him walk from the room. Stopping them before they got to the stairs, she called out a tired thanks to Dorian. The wave he responded with was weary, as he had expended a great deal of energy on her behalf. Offering the Commander a smile of gratitude as he drew near, she watched as he pulled Mariah close. She too was worn out from healing, something she would have to thank them both for. The Commander, however...

“Commander Cullen...” she began softly. “I owe you my life. If you hadn’t... I wouldn’t...”

“It was an honor. I’m just glad we made it in time.” Cullen smiled gently.

“You almost didn’t... I felt my spirit leave my body, only returning as you all entered the building. Had you not ridden for the others...”

“You’re going to make him blush, frosty.” Mariah smiled, nudging Cullen. “Let’s go, love. These two need to be alone a while with their little one.”

Smiling as the couple left the room, she turned to Varric. Taking their babe from him as he started whimpering, she nursed him happily. Once he’d fallen back asleep, she let her love take him so that she could start working on getting out of the bath. Feeling a large hand on her shoulder, she turned to see the dwarf smiling gently down at her.

“Stay put, Snowflake.”

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m covered in blood... I’d like to try and wash up a bit.” Wynter replied, trying to get up once again.

“I did notice.” Varric replied, pulling off his shirt and pants. “I haven’t been here to help you through all the good times and bad in this pregnancy, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you deal with the worst of it by yourself.

Pulling her legs back as he started the water, she let him carefully remove her blood soaked clothing. Stopping him from throwing it into the fire by telling him she could get it clean, she then scooted forward, at his direction, allowing him to slip in behind her. The feel of the warm water on her scalp as he gently poured it over her head was blissful. His fingers soon worked her shampoo and conditioner through the silvery locks, rinsing the suds from her tresses before turning his attention to her back.

He was gentle as he washed her body, turning to face him when requested. It was a little strange to have him bathe her, though she wouldn’t deny it felt wonderful. Smirking as she saw his silk underwear turning slightly red from the bloody water, she knew she’d have to make him more once she was back on her feet. She wasn’t sure what was more comical, however. Him sitting in the bath with his smallclothes on, or watching him scrub determinedly at the dark crust that covered her legs.

Once she’d been cleaned to his satisfaction, she watched as he drained the bathe before filling it once again with warm water. Resting back against him as he massaged her shoulders, she sighed in contentment. Feeling him wrap his arms around her, she snuggled against the warmth of his chest. She was so tired that it was difficult for her to stay awake. Blinking in surprise as he moved away, she followed him with her eyes as he went to get a towel. Sighing as he scooped her up, she rest her head on his shoulder as he gently carried her to their bed. Snuggling under the covers as he pulled them up, she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

Her body ached when she next woke. Stretching, she looked around for Varric. There was no trace of him or their son, and she wondered where they might have gotten off to. Seeing the nightdress on the chair beside the bed, she carefully pulled in on. Her breasts were sore, and had started leaking. Pressing a cold cloth to them that lay on the bedside table, she sighed in relief at the cool kiss against her skin. Hearing the babe cry only made them seep more, to which she was grateful when she saw Varric appearing through the doorway with the little one.

Taking him as Varric passed him over, she sighed happily as the gentle suckling eased the pressure that was building painfully. Taking a drink of the juice Varric held for her, she licked her lips gratefully. It was soon replaced with a piece of bacon, followed by another. She couldn’t help but smile, as Varric took it upon himself to feed her while she cared for their boy. Once she’d eaten her fill, she watched as he then proceeded to clean her place of what little remained.

“I’ve been thinking...” she said softly.

“A dangerous pastime...” Varric smirked.

“I know, right? Next thing you know, I’ll be reading, and getting ideas...” She grinned.

“What’s on your mind, Snowflake?” Varric asked, kissing her forehead.

“I... want to name our son after the two men who saved my life...” she answered, her tone serious. “My life hung on the thinnest of threads, a slight beating of my heart. A few moments more...”

“It was close, no question.”

“Dorian... I would have died without his magic. And again, if Cullen hadn’t ridden so hard for you all...”

“Well, he’d either end up being fabulous, or broody with names after those guys...”

“Why not fabulously broody? Or broodingly fabulous?” Wynter grinned.

“Would he sparkle in the light, drawing attention to himself in an empty room, or skulk in a darkened corner, watching everything with serious suspicion?” Varric chuckled.

“I think he’ll be a bright star in an otherwise darkened night.”

“So, Cullen Dorian?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of Dorian Rutherford Tethras...”

“Huh. Dorian Rutherford... Has a nice ring to it. You know it’ll give them a huge ego...”

“Fortunately, I won’t be the one having to deal with it. I’m not the one they travel with on the road.” Wynter smirked.

“Just one porblem though.”

“Oh?”

“There’s not a ‘Mrs. Tethras’ anywhere in that dynamic.”

“I can see how that could be a problem.” Wynter smiled.

“So... you wanna get married?”

“I’ve considered the idea. Though, the man would have to propose properly.”

“And what would be a proper proposal?”

“The man who wanted to marry me wouldn’t have to ask that question.” Wynter smirked.

“So... You want to get married?” Varric chuckled.

“Who would I be marrying?”

“I think I could make a bid for the job.”

“Marry you?”

“Yeah. Then you could say you were married to the most eligible bachelor in Thedas.”

“If he were married, he wouldn’t be a bachelor.” Wynter teased.

“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t mind not being a bachelor.”

“So if I married you...”

“You’d make me the happiest man in all of Thedas and beyond.”

“Hmmm. Let me check my list of suitors...” Wynter teased. “Very well. I supposed I could marry you.”

“If it’s not an inconvenience or anything. I wouldn’t want to get in the way.” Varric smirked, leaning down to kiss her.

“Hmmm. Kiss me like that again and I’ll have no choice but to say yes.” Wynter sighed, savoring his warmth.

Feeling him kiss her again, Wynter moaned in contentment. Meeting his eyes as he slowly pulled away, she saw the relief in his warm gaze. She could tell he’d been afraid she would refuse, though he would never voice as much. Letting him take their son once he was finished nursing, she watched as he lay the boy in an intricately carved crib bearing the striking figure of a griffon at its head. Swinging her legs slowly off her bed, she rose cautiously to make sure she was strong enough to stand.

Moving slowly to the crib, she ran her hands along the polished oak surface. It was a masterpiece, each feather, scale and claw intricately carved into the wood. It was the representation of the Grey Wardens, and she felt a smile light her eyes.

“Blackwall delivered it earlier this morning. He’d been working on it for some time, said it had been a great opportunity for him to put his free time to good use. He may not actually _be_ a Grey Warden, but he _is_ a good man, for the most part.” Varric smiled.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Wynter smiled.

“I can think of something more beautiful than this... Well, some_one_...” Varric grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Smiling as he pulled her close, she rest her head on his shoulder. Despite having slept deeply, she felt herself growing tired. Trying her best to stifle a yawn, she let Varric lead her back to bed. Slipping between the covers, she closed her eyes as he gently brushed her hair. Feeling him place a gentle kiss on her forehead, she soon drifted back to sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

“And how is our lovely patient today?” Dorian asked as he entered that afternoon.

“Alive, thanks to you.” Varric replied, offering the man a warm smile of gratitude.

“That’s good to hear. I’m just glad I was able to help.” he smirked.

“So am I” Wynter stated softly, pushing herself up to a sitting position. “Maker knows what would have happened to Varric if I wasn’t around to tease him.”

“He’d probably turn into a brooding toad. You should see him when we’re out and about, doing Inquisition stuff.” Bull teased, stepping in behind the Tevinter man.

“No more than you, Amatus. I’ve heard the stories.” Dorian smirked.

Watching the two men embrace each other for a brief kiss, Wynter looked to Varric. Letting him slip her hand into his, she met his eyes warmly. Sighing in contentment as he leaned over to place a tender kiss on her brow, she wondered how it was that he’d managed to steal away into her heart. Or she his, for that matter. Hearing their son start to whimper, she smiled as he then went to gather the boy into his arms before bringing him to her.

“It feels like he’s a little squishy, Snowflake.” Varric offered, placing the hungry boy in her arms.

Taking a moment to change his diaper, Wynter then brought him to her breast to let him nurse. Humming softly, she smiled as he started to drift back to sleep, having filled his belly. Looking to Varric, she smirked at the other men before getting to her feet to take him back to his crib.

“There you go, my little Dorian. Sleep well.” she said softly.

“Beg pardon?” the mage asked, confused. “I’m not tired, why should I sleep?”

“Not you, Sparkler, our son.” Varric grinned slyly.

“You... named your son Dorian?” he asked.

“We did. Dorian Rutherford Tethras, after the two men that saved Snowflake’s life.” Varric smiled.

“I... don’t know what to say. I’m deeply honored, Lady Wynter.” Dorian breathed.  
“It was the least we could do, Dorian. Now, why don’t you gentlemen go downstairs for some breakfast. Varric cooked this morning, and it was actually quite satisfying.” Wynter smiled.

“It’s a great deal better than what Cassandra makes. She cooked something this one time that exploded when it got near fire. I kept some in my pack for a while, and it proved quite effective against the few dragons we’d fought at the time. I should have her make some more so that we can use it against Corypheus.” Varric chuckled.

“I heard it was almost as effective as Qunari black powder.” Bull smirked. “Might have to do a comparison between the two.”

“If you can get your hands on some of that, Tiny, I’ll use a copy of the next ‘Swords and Shields’ to persuade her. Of course, that would mean I’d actually have to _write_ the book first...” Varric grinned.

“Fortunately, you’ll have help. The last ones you wrote were little more than literary garbage.” Wynter teased.

“You don’t have to tell me, Snowflake. Though, maybe you helping me write the next one might not be a good idea. Who _knows_ what secrets you might share.” Varric chuckled.

“Only the good ones. I wouldn’t want anyone to know just how...” Wynter began.

“So, breakfast, guys?” Varric interrupted, not wanting her to finish what she was about to say.

Laughing as she watched her love lead the others downstairs, Wynter took a few moments to freshen up. Her body was still sore from the birthing, but both she and her son had made it through. It was entirely thanks to Dorian and the Commander, something she would never forget. Casting a loving glance to where the babe slept, she then proceeded toward the stairs. Taking them slowly, she breathed a tired sigh once she’d reached the bottom.

“What do you think you’re doing down here, Snowflake? You’re supposed to be resting.” Varric chided, helping her to the closest chair.

“I wanted to join you gentlemen, if only for a few moments.” she smiled.

“I’ll get you some juice and then you can go back to bed.” Varric offered.

Nodding her head, Wynter took the warm cider from him and sipped contentedly at it. Watching as Dorian made to answer the knocking upon her door, she smiled as she saw Cullen and Mariah enter.

“How are you feeling today?” Mariah questioned, spinning a chair and sitting before her.

“Tired, but otherwise well.” she replied, offering the other woman a small smile.

“How is your son?” Cullen asked softly.

“I’ll go get him so you two can see what a strapping lad he already is.” Varric grinned.

Watching him race up the stairs, she beamed happily as he placed their child in her arms. She couldn’t help but feel her heart swell as she looked down at his sleepy face, all nestled into the blanket he was swaddled in. Offering him to the Inquisitor, she watched as Mariah carefully brought him close to her body.

“He’s beautiful, despite his father being so... dwarfy. What’s his name?” Mariah smirked, casting a teasing glance to the babe’s father.

“Dorian Rutherford Tethras.” the mage answered, practically glowing as he answered for Wynter.

“You... named him after me?” Cullen stammered, stepping closer to his wife.

“We did. It was the only way I could think to honor the men who saved my life. If not for your swift actions, and Dorian’s skill at healing magic, I wouldn’t be here to share in all the joy he brings.” Wynter answered, meeting the man’s amber eyes.

“Now you’ve done it. It was bad enough that you gave Sparkler a boost to his already inflated ego, but now you’ve gone and made Curly cry. Sheesh, woman, what’s gotten into you?” Varric teased playfully.

“I’m not crying.” Cullen stated, trying to hide the tear that slipped over his stubbled cheek.

Catching the arch of Mariah’s eyebrow as she stared at him, she watched the man blush ever so slightly.

“Alright, I might be a little moved by the gesture.” Cullen said softly. “But I’m not crying.”

Chuckling as she watched him take the boy, Wynter couldn’t help but smile at the slight trembling of the Commander’s hand. It was odd to see a man who never removed his armor gently cradling so small a child to his chest. Smiling, she knew that if he and Mariah ever had children of their own, he would be a loyal, protective father who would stand before all the demons in the Fade rather than let his own children succumb to their torment.

Visiting with them a short while longer as they shared the meal Varric had made, Wynter stifled a yawn. She couldn’t help but notice the way her friends spoke lightly about unimportant matters, and knew there was more they wished to discuss without her there. Likely things related to Corypheus and the extreme danger they were all still in, and so she made her excuses to retire to her room. Letting Mariah carry her son, she thanked the woman as she tucked him back in his crib. Changing into her bedclothes, she crawled under the covers and was soon asleep.

The days that passed saw Wynter recovering quickly. Dorian had come to minister healing magic daily, and her body had responded quite well. There was an edge to everyone at the moment, and she couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about it. Meeting Varric’s eyes as he drew near one afternoon, she felt her whole body tense. She knew the look, the one that told her he’d be leaving soon.

“So... How are you feeling, Snowflake?” he asked tenuously.

“Like you’re about to tell me you’re leaving again,” she replied, laying their son in his crib.

“I’m sorry... Her Inquisatorialness says we need to go to the altar of Mythal to summon her. We’re looking for every advantage we can find against Corypheus and his dragon, and she feels this is our best hope.”

“So, you’re going to fight another dragon?”

“Not yet. Corypheus’ dragon is the source of his immortality, and as long as they both live, he can move from one Blighted creature to the next. We need something, _anything_ that can separate that bond, even if only for a short time. It might give us the edge we need...”

“When do you leave?”

“She wants to head out in an hour or so...”

“Well then, Master Tethras. You’d best return to me soon, and with all your pieces, or I’ll have to kick whatever pieces remain.” she smirked.

“You going to be ok?” he asked, pulling her into his arms.

“I’ll be better when you return. Besides. I’m a big, smart girl. I tie my own sandals and everything.” she smirked.

While her words were brave, she honestly felt terrified for her love. She couldn’t say why, but the thought of him disappearing, of him potentially _dying_, made her uneasy. Shaking herself mentally, she knew this wasn’t going to be as rough a trip. They were going to an altar in the woods, after all. An altar to an elven _goddess_, but not out to battle some demon or dragon. Resting her head atop his, she felt contentment in just being close to him.

Kissing him sweetly as he prepared to mount his horse, she watched as he and the others rode through the castle gates. Holding their son close, she drew in a steadying breath. It was always hard for her to say goodbye to him, especially with the uncertainty of his return. Making her way into her shop, she set herself to her sewing, wanting to distract her thoughts from whatever lay beyond Skyhold’s sturdy walls. Laying Dorian in his bassinet, she began working on the piece she’d been commissioned for before she’d had her baby. Looking up as Lady Vivienne entered, she offered the woman a warm smile.

“I heard you’d had your baby, and had hoped you’d be back to work soon.” the woman said, making her way towards where Wynter sewed.

:Yes, a healthy young man.” Wynter smiled, looking over to where he slept.

“I’ve never considered having a child, though I don’t have any reason to have one. Mages have no need to bear children, as we can’t inherit titles, or pass them on. Besides. It’s better to be the mistress of a titled man, rather than be required to bear a child I wouldn’t want.”

“While I wasn’t _planning_ on having a child, I wouldn’t trade Dorian for anything.” she said, looking fondly to where he slept once again.

“_Please_ tell me that’s not what you named your son.” Vivienne sneered.

“I couldn’t think of anything better, given the situation.”

“There’s a _myriad_ of other names you could have chosen, my dear. Naming your son after the _Tevinter_ is as repulsive as the contents of Ferelden stew.”

“The _Tevinter_ saved my life. If not for he and Commander Cullen, I wouldn’t _be_ here to tailor your clothing. Naming my son after the men who returned me to life was the _least_ I could do to honor them, and show how deeply grateful I am for their actions.”

“That could be the _only_ bright side to that situation, my dear. That doesn’t mean you needed to give your child such a repulsive name.”

“Good thing it wasn’t _you_ naming him then. I wouldn’t want him ending up with something as preposterous as Bernard...”

“Indeed. I can see you’re busy working, so I shall leave you to it. When may I expect my robes to be finished?”

“Given I only had a baby a mere few days ago, I’m going to be quite occupied taking care of him. You may check back with me towards the end of the week, Lady Vivienne. I should have it finished by then.” Wynter retorted.

Smirking as the First Enchanter walked briskly from her shop, she couldn’t help but feel a rush of pleasure. The woman was arrogant and self important at the best of times, and really needed to be put in her place. She knew the woman would be fuming, telling everyone how poorly she’d been treated, but those that _knew_ Wynter wouldn’t believe the exaggerated tales Vivienne was sure to tell. Returning to her sewing, she hummed contentedly as she let the familiar action of the needle connecting pieces of material together on her lap.


	16. Chapter 16

Days passed since Varric had left for the altar, and there was still no word as to when he’d be back. She’d filled her time with her sewing, hoping the familiar action would help to ease her worry. Looking up as the door to her shop opened, Wynter sighed as she saw the First Enchanter making her way towards her.

“It’s the end of the week. I was hoping to at least get a _fitting_ before now, though it seems your still occupied with your _child_. Vivienne said, barely concealing the sneer she wore.

“That’s what comes with having a baby. You actually have to take _time_ to care for them. Unless, of course, you’re too busy with titles and silly little games of intrigue to care about the life you carried for the last few months.” Wynter retorted.

“I still think you’d have done better to hire a wet nurse, dear. To be seen with the offspring of that dwarf...”

“And miss every opportunity to see my baby’s sweet face looking up at me? Not a chance.”

Watching the woman as she scoffed, Wynter tucked her son in the little sling she’d made to keep him close and went to fetch her new robes. Pulling them from the hanger, she passed them to Vivienne and escorted her to the changing screen. Waiting for her to emerge, she gently patted her son’s back, hoping to ease the discomfort he was beginning to feel. Looking up at the mage as she stepped out, she followed her to the full length mirror so she could look herself over.

“I was hoping for a lower neckline.” Vivienne said, puffing out her chest. “I need to use every facet at my disposal to make sure I’m seen, darling.”

Stepping on the stool before the woman, Wynter pulled the pin cushion from her apron pocket and leaned over her. Pinning the desired alterations in place, she felt her son wiggling uncomfortably in his sling. Biting her tongue as he then proceeded to lose his lunch, she squeaked out the best apology she could manage before using her apron to wipe the projected spittle from the tops of Vivienne’s breasts. The woman screamed in horror as it then proceeded to slide down her cleavage, effectively coating the mage in smelly baby barf.

“I’m so sorry, Lady Vivienne. Here. Let me get you something to clean it up.” Wynter said, knowing the woman would demand another dress in return for her horror.

“You’d better, or I’ll see you never sell another garment in all of Thedas!” the woman snapped.

“Good thing you aren’t the only voice in fashion that people listen to, then.” Varric said as he entered behind the woman.

“My influence carries farther than you could ever imagine, dwarf.” Vivienne sneered.

“Ah, but hers carries farther. People actually _like_ what she makes, and requests her designs from as far as across the Boeric seas. Not even _you_ can boast that claim, Vivienne. With the new trading agreements our dear ambassador has made in her spare time, that influence will only continue to grow.”

“I’ll make you a replacement, Vivienne.” Wynter offered, letting Varric pull her to his side.

“Don’t bother. I’ll not risk myself to such potential horror again.” she said, stomping from the shop.

Looking to Varric, Wynter could no longer restrain her laughter. Between her chortles, she explained all that had led to the moment before he’d arrived. How Vivienne had previously made snide comments about her baby and the name he was given, to how their son had lost his lunch down the front of the woman’s chest. By the time she’d finished, they were both laughing so hard that it became difficult to breathe. Letting Varric take their boy, she closed the shop and followed her love into the main part of the house.

“He’s grown since I was here last.” Varric smiled, his calloused hands gently brushing against the baby’s cheek.

“That’s what happens. Babies grow, _especially_ with how much he eats.” Wynter chuckled. “Are you hungry? I was just about to prepare supper.”

“Famished. Anything I can do to help?”

“Just watch little Dorian for me. He’s become a real wiggle worm.” Wynter smiled, kissing the top of Varric’s head.

Squeaking as he pulled her close for a real kiss, Wynter swatted him on the butt as she turned for the kitchen. Getting everything ready only took a short while, and she was soon setting places for them at the table. Breathing a small sigh of relief as she sat beside her love, she couldn’t help but feel there was more to come that would potentially take the dwarf away from her. He sensed her unease however, and took hold of her hand.

“I know you’re worried, Snowflake. I won’t pretend that everything’s going to be fine, and that Corypheus will just let us kill him without a fight.”

“He knows he’s beaten, why doesn’t he just surrender?” Wynter smiled.

“You know how these godly types are. They need the spotlight, have to put on their dramatic performances and all. I’m sure when her Inquisatorialness finally delivers the killing blow, he’ll take an hour to die. You know how some Tevinter are.” he chuckled.

“Indeed. Dorian could draw a crowd in an empty room if he wanted.” Wynter grinned. He could probably fill the Winter Palace when it’s empty just by taking off his shirt. He wouldn’t have to say a word, and they’d come flocking to him like the pied piper.”

“There’s no lie there, Snowflake.” Varric laughed heartily. “That man could cause a scene in the barren landscape of the Western Approach.”

Nodding her head in agreement, Wynter spent the remaining evening with her favorite dwarf. Helping him to bathe before they retired, she lavished the kind of attention on him that any man would feel lucky to have. Falling asleep in his arms, she couldn’t imagine a world without him in it. Even in her fondest dreams, she was at Varric’s side until they were both old and gray, their ashes scattered to the farthest reaches of the world.

In the days that followed, Wynter could see the worry coloring Varric’s features. She knew what was to come would determine the fate of the world, as Corypheus would surely destroy anyone that had stood with the Inquisition if they happened to fall. That would mean the deaths of all those she held dear. Trying her best to keep things light and stress free for Varric’s sake, she couldn’t help but smile as he invited her for a picnic one afternoon.

“And where shall we be taking our lunch?” she asked, smiling sweetly at him.

“Someplace special. Come on.” Varric answered with a handsome grin.

Making something quickly for them to take, Wynter packed a bag of things they would need for the baby as well. Following him through the main courtyard and into the castle, she furrowed her brow as they approached the Chantry garden. She didn’t think the place was very special, as it was constantly filled with the presence of priests and devotees. Watching him enter a small shrine, she paused as she met his gaze.

“This is hardly special, Master Tethras.” she said, holding their boy close.

“I need you to trust me. It’s through here.” he replied, smirking as he stepped behind the statue of Andraste.

Letting out a sigh, Wynter carefully made her way around the statue as well. Furrowing her brow as he lightly pushed on a stone, she blinked in surprise as a small doorway opened up. Following him through the passage, she could feel the shimmer of magic as they entered a small garden. It was tucked in a part of the castle she’d never known existed, and couldn’t help but look at the beauty all around her. There were flowers that she’d never seen before, and their sweet aroma helped to soothe her like she’d never known. The fertile ground boasted grapes and strawberries in abundance, as well as raspberries, cherries, and ripe melons. Turning to face Varric, the question was etched plainly on her face.

“It’s the Inquisitor’s private garden. It’s enchanted so that only one with the right charm can even access the entryway.” Varric smirked.

“And you managed to charm the Inquisitor to gain access? Should I be concerned?” Wynter grinned playfully.

“I didn’t have to do anything. She approached me a couple days ago and offered to let me bring you here. Given all that’s going on, I thought you could use a break in a place only a couple people know of.”

“I love you.” Wynter smiled, kissing the top of his head.

“I know.” Varric smirked again.

“Though I can’t for the life of me figure out why.” she teased.

“It’s the chest hair. Once you look at it, you can’t fight the desire to touch it. That, and I _am_ impossibly handsome.”

“I was wondering where that ego had gone. I thought it had all been driven away by the darkness we face.”

“Nope, I was just saving it for the right moment. Besides, it’s not ego if it’s true.”

“You, sir, are not as charming as you think.” Wynter grinned.

“Of course I am. Why else would you be with me?” Varric chuckled.

“Boredom, perhaps?” Wynter smirked.

Hearing their son fuss, Wynter collected him in her arms and let him nurse contentedly. Glancing up occasionally as he fed, she couldn’t help but smirk as she saw Varric staring at her. Rocking the babe gently as he drifted back to sleep, she smiled sweetly down at him.

“You do realize you’ve been staring at my breasts for the last fifteen minutes.” she smirked.

“I was just watching the most beautiful woman in all of Thedas care for the needs of my son.” he replied, smirking back at her.

“He’s just _your_ son? As I recall, I’m the one that did all the hard work. Your actual contribution was rather small.” she teased.

“Small enough to make you walk funny?” he retorted, snickering.

“I wasn’t referring to the tree that your dead baby bird sacks rested under. I was referring to what it spat.”

“Dead baby birds?” Varric laughed.

“Have you ever really _looked_ at them? They look like the rotting corpses of bird eggs dangling from a fleshy, hair covered nest. _Not_ attractive at all.” Wynter grinned, laying the sleeping boy in his bassinet.

“Aren’t you, uh, going to tie your shirt?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but my breasts no longer fit in my clothing properly. Since I’ve been busy caring for Dorian, and finishing the orders I have, I haven’t really had _time_ to alter my clothing. I’m just lucky I can cover as much as I currently am.” she smirked. “Besides. It wasn’t like you were staying at a dusty inn when you could have been curled up close to the woman they belong to... Oh, wait...”

“I’m going to pay for that for a while, aren’t I?” Varric chuckled.

Letting her hair fall from the updo she’d had it tied in, she shook the pearly locks free. The silken strands spilled over her shoulders and down to her waist, gleaming in the light. She knew exactly what effect it was having on her love, and savored the discomfort she knew he was suddenly feeling.

“So... No one can come in unless the Inquisitor gives them access?” she asked, looking around.

“That’s pretty much the size of it.” Varric replied.

“Any chance she and Cullen will make an appearance tonight?”

“Nope. I told them I’d be bringing you here, and was assured we’d have our privacy.”

Smiling seductively, Wynter loosed the remaining ties on her shirt, allowing her breasts to relax from the strain of the lacing that had held them in place. She grinned as she heard Varric clear his throat and turn away, knowing full well he was struggling just to stay where he was. Letting out a sigh of relief, she scooted closer to him.

“You’re a cruel woman, tormenting me like this. You know how much I want to touch you right now, and can’t because of how recent it’s been since you had the baby.” he breathed, struggling to control the sudden trembling that washed over him.

“I’d say it’s a good thing I have a certain _mage_ as a friend... Dorian works _wonders_.” she purred, straddling his lap.

Grinning to herself as he moaned, she nibbled on his neck and ear. Feeling his hands slide around her lean waist, she rubbed herself against the swelling in his groin. His whole body was trembling in anticipation, to which she slid a delicate hand between her and where his manhood grew. Pulling the ties away from the leather to free him from the material, she wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly.

“Maker’s breath, woman. Are you trying to kill me?” he groaned.

“I could stop if you prefer...”

“I... no...”

Moving his hands under her skirt, she guided them to the sides of her silken underwear. Letting him feel the little silver snaps she’d sewn in, she then helped him to pop them apart. Feeling them slide away, she raised herself up enough to put the tip of his thick shaft at the entrance to her silky core.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stop? I could do so right now, if that is your wish...” she purred in his ear.

Moaning as he arched up toward her, she slid down the length of his manhood, resting herself firmly around him. Stroking him with her entire being, she relished the feel of him inside her once again. It had been months since they’d made love, and she was determined to savor every delicious moment. Riding him to their first orgasm, she kissed him hotly as he held her close. Gasping as he rolled her to her back, she keened in delight as he once again brought her to her release.

Holding him with everything she was as he rested over her some time later, she felt as though the world wrapped her in the loving embrace of his arms. Sighing contentedly, she kissed him again as he brought his lips to hers. There was nothing between them in that moment, and nothing that could tear them apart. Drifting into a blissful sleep, she curled up into his arms as the night swelled around them.

Waking up to the sound of their son chuffing, she slowly moved away from Varric. Changing his diaper, she brought him to her breast to nurse. Once he’d finished, she pulled on her clothing before kissing Varric awake. His smile warmed her to her very soul, and she returned the gesture happily. Helping him to gather their things, Wynter felt her breath catch in her throat. Looking to the sky, she gasped as it belched loudly before the Breach once again tore it asunder...


	17. Chapter 17

Wynter clutched her son tightly to her chest as Fade lightning arced across the sky. Her heart beat like a war drum, and her eyes were fixed on the green glow of the swirling clouds. Screaming in terror as a hand closed around her arm, she blinked in fright as she met Varric’s eyes. Leaving everything else where it lay, she raced toward the secret opening of the garden, her love leading the way. Reaching the main hall, she felt the crush of people as they shoved passed her, desperate to escape to whoever knew where. Hearing Mariah call out to Varric, she turned to find the woman rushing toward them.

“Let’s go, Varric! Corypheus has sent us an invitation to his personal soiree, and I’d hate to disappoint him.” she shouted, offering Wynter an apologetic smile.

“This way! The castle has shelter down below! Quickly!” Cullen called out.

“Varric...” Wynter whimpered.

“Go with Cullen, he’ll keep you safe.” Varric replied, meeting her eyes gently.

Nodding her head stiffly, she watched him disappear into the courtyard. Dorian and Bull were moving to catch up to the others, meeting her eyes only briefly. Fighting the terror that gripped her, she quickly turned to find the Commander. Spotting him flagging people towards a set of stairs, she quickly joined the crowds of servants and refugees. Fear hung like a thick cloud in the air as clusters of bodies crushed around her, many of which were women with children. The sound of babies crying made her own son start, to which she could only hum a soft lullaby.

“Is everyone alright?” Cullen asked as he passed by the people.

Nodding her head as he looked toward her, Wynter knew that everyone there was just as terrified as she was. Moving to the edges of the crowd, she claimed a piece of wall for herself and sat quietly on the floor. Meeting the eyes of several other women as they came to join her, she took comfort in their presence, as she was sure they were doing with one another. Gently rocking Dorian as he fussed, she desperately prayed the Inquisitor would defeat the would-be god so that her love could return to her, hopefully in one piece.

Minutes turned into hours, and hours into what felt like an eternity. The grumbling of hungry bellies soon echoed around the chamber, reminding her that it had been some time since she’d eaten. Looking up as a bit of bread, cheese and dried meat was handed to her, she offered the woman a grateful smile.

“There are others that could use this more.” she said softly.

“You care for an infant, my Lady. The Commander has told us that all nursing mothers get fed first so that they can feed their babies in turn. Now, eat up.” the woman replied gently.

“The elderly and small children could use this more...” Wynter argued.

“Exactly why you’re eating now.” Cullen said as he approached the group of women. “You can’t feed an infant if you yourself haven’t eaten. Feeding the eldery and children includes your own son, and to do that, you must eat as well.”

Reluctantly taking the food that was offered, she ate only as much as she needed just then, passing the rest to one of the older women that had come to join their little group. The gratitude in her eyes was all she needed just then, as she knew that every one of them was just as terrified as she herself was. Clutching little Dorian to her chest as the ground rumbled beneath them, Wynter felt her heart pounding in her throat. Cullen and several of his soldiers drew their blades as they made for the stairs, ready to protect the refugees and any cost. Saying a silent prayer for their safety, she knew there was little more she could offer them.

Looking to the stairs as the rumbling stopped, she felt the deathly silence of the shelter crushing in around her. The others felt it as well, and looked cautiously among one another. The creaking of the upper door made her heart stop, thinking it was one of the Venatori seeking entrance. The Commander's face brought a moment of relief in which she could catch her breath, though it felt like an eternity.

“The Breach is closed, and the sky is quiet. Sister Lelianna has received a raven from the front lines... The Inquisitor has won the day and sent Corypheus to his final rest!” Cullen said.

The cheers that rang through the hall were deafening. People were hugging one another amidst tears of joy and relief, though she found herself wondering the fate of those that had gone to battle. Closing her eyes as she got to her feet, she followed the crowd as they filed out of the shelter. Stepping outside the castle, she looked up at the sky to see nothing but a thin ribbon of white creasing the spot where the Breach had once been. Breathing a sigh of relief, she hoped Varric had not paid the ultimate price for the freedom everyone had been granted.

“It’s over...” Leliana said as she approached Cullen. “The soldiers that went with the Inquisitor will be returning as soon as some of them are able. There were many casualties, and we will honor their sacrifice. Those that fell will _not_ be forgotten.”

“Pardon me, Lady Nightingale...” Wynter began softly as she approached the woman. “Is there word of the survivors yet?”

“Not yet. The numbers are still being tallied, though the Inquisitor was the one to send the message. She and those that still stand will be arriving soon, perhaps by nightfall.” Lelianna replied.

“We should prepare a _true_ banquet for them.” Josephine stated, looking between the two women.

“I agree. Let us make the necessary arrangements. Good eve, Lady Wynter.” Leliana smiled gently, turning to follow the Antivan woman.

Watching them walk off together, Wynter made her way up to the battlements. Staring out at the darkening landscape, she searched for any sign of the Inquisitor, and those that traveled with her. Her hair whipped around her as she scanned the mountain pass, feeling as though an eternity passed before any sign of movement caught her eye. Squinting into the darkness, she felt her heart pound hard in her chest as the darkened shadows of people appeared along the road.

“Safe, sound, surrounded by those that fought. The stone moves with the others, wanting, waiting, wishing to see the one he loves.” a strange boy said as he came to stand beside her.

“You... I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?” Wynter asked, confused as to where he’d come from.

“Yes. I help the hurt and make it better. My name is Cole.”

“Cole? It’s a pleasure to meet you... What was that you were saying about a stone?”

“Like a stone rolling down a hill, so the child of the stone rolls to you. Varric is alright.”

Feeling tears well up in her throat, Wynter threw her arms aroun him and hugged him tightly. Varric was alright, and as the specks on the road below drew closer, she could make out the weathered features of the man she loved. Racing towards the stairs, she fought her way through the masses that had gathered to welcome the Inquisitor and her companions home. Dropping to her knees before the dwarf, the relief was evident in the tears she wept.

“Varric...” she cried, looking him over.

“Snowflake...” he replied, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. “I know I’m a hero and all, but you don’t need to fall down at my feet and worship me.” he finished, teasing.

“You’re here and you’re safe... And I wasn’t kneeling down to worship you. I was checking to make sure my favorite part was still in one piece.” she said, getting to her feet and brushing the tears from her face. “I was terrified I wouldn’t see you again... That Corypheus would win...”

“I think we all were. What about you? Were you ok during all this?” Varric asked softly.

“The Commander took us to an underground shelter to await word of your victory, or... He only let us out once Sister Lelianna received word that the battle was won. He kept us all safe below the castle...”

“I have to thank him once he’s done celebrating with the Inquisitor. Right now though, I want nothing more than to be here in your arms. Let’s let them have their celebration. We can sequester ourselves in the quiet of our living room.”

“Not a chance, Varric. Your presence is just as much in demand as the rest of ours is. I won’t suffer this praise without you.” Dorian smirked.

“Oh, the humanity. Sitting there feasting on the finest delicacies Thedas has to offer. Come on, Snowflake. Looks like we have to make an appearance.” Varric smirked, taking their son in one arm, and her hand in his other.

Making her way towards the main hall with him, she blinked in surprise as she watched the magic of Skyhold shift right before her. Tables and chairs had appeared where there previously weren’t any, and the banquet Josephine mentioned soon covered the polished surfaces of the antique tables. Looking around, Wynter could hardly believe there was as much food as what had materialized with them. She doubted the entire army that served the Inquisition could finish it all, especially since it seemed to replenish itself without the servants bringing it.

Letting Varric lead her to one of the more secluded corners of the hall, she sat in the chair he’d pulled out for her before taking his own. The soft grumbling of her belly was nothing compared to the loud roar his seemed to give. Chuckling as she sipped at the wine filled her glass without the aid of a servant, she felt her lover’s arm wrap around her slim waist. Resting her head atop his, she breathed a sigh of contented relief.

The celebration lasted well into the night, to which Wynter felt her eyes drooping. Starting as Varric got to his feet, she took the hand he offered and followed him out of the hall. Holding their son close, she let him lead her to a quiet part of the Chantry garden where the priests liked to frequent. There were only a few there now, as most of them were still in the main hall blessing those members of the Inquisition that had fought to save the world from the hand of Corypheus. Glancing from his eyes to those of the woman that approached, she arched a brow curiously.

“Varric?” she asked softly.

“Being out there, fighting demons and dragons, nearly dying... I don’t want to wait even one second more.” he said, taking the small golden band from the pouch at his side. “You agreed to marry me once, still up to the challenge?” he finished, smirking.

“As long as it doesn’t involve any more crazy antics like fighting demons and dragons, or nearly dying.” she grinned.

“I don’t know what the future holds, but I don’t want to imagine it without you in it.” he said, gently taking her hand in his and slipping the ring onto her finger.

“This is going to feel a little strange, and I apologize if I mess anything up.” Lelianna said, dropping the hood she wore. “I haven’t witnessed a marriage in ages, and have never performed one.”

“Being married by the new Divine? I’m sure people will be a little forgiving.” Varric smirked.

“You’re... You’re the new Divine?” Wynter asked, nearly speechless.

“I received word this morning. They’ve decided to call me ‘Victoria’. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to.” she smiled.

“You’ll manage, Nightingale, you always do.” Varric grinned. “Shall we?”

“You first, Varric.” Lelianna said gently.

“I, Lord Varric Tethras, Master of House Tethras and Deshyr to the Merchant’s Guild, do swear to love the beautiful, talented, mother of my child, Lady Wynter, for the rest of eternity, no matter how far that road may be.” he stated, taking her hand in his.

“Wynter?” Leliana offered, turning to the woman.

“Well, I don’t know. Eternity is _such_ a long time...” she smirked, meeting Varric’s eyes. “I swear to love you to the heavens and back, throughout eternity.” she finished.

“Well? Kiss her already.” Leliana grinned.

Squeaking as she was pulled into Varric’s arms, she felt the heat of his kiss sear her to her soul. Sighing softly, she savored the time that had been granted to them, time the Inquisitor had provided when she’d killed Corypheus and closed the Breach. Meeting his eyes as he broke off the kiss, she saw him grinning like a fool.

“Just as giddy and silly as the first time I kissed you, I see. Perhaps that should be a practice I cease doing.” Wynter smirked.

“I think you’d miss it too much.” Varric retorted, reaching for her.

“Perhaps not as much as you think, Master Tethras. I _did_ go several months without seeing hide nor hair of you... I think I’ll be able to manage.” she teased, dancing away from him.

“Come now, Mrs. Tethras. Surely, you wouldn’t make me beg...”

“Oh, I think I shall, at least for a while, _husband_.” She laughed.

Looking briefly to Lelianna as she quietly excused herself, she was caught off guard as Varric grabbed her from behind. Laughing as he pinned her against the wall, she surrendered to the heat of his kiss. Whatever the future would bring, at least they would face it together...


	18. Chapter 18

The morning sun glittered through the shimmering trees that formed a lush canopy overhead. Kirkwall was busy, and very loud, something she’d been used to having lived in Orlais as long as she had. The wife of the Viscount was hectic at the best of times, and sheer chaos in others. Varric had funded enough efforts to rebuild the city over the last few years, earning him the title, but Wynter needed a bit of peace and quiet from it all. At least the nobles in Kirkwall weren’t as bad as those in Orlais , as they didn’t look at her with disdain just because she had pointed ears. The fact that she and Varric were married by Divine Victoria was something that often brought people to her shops too, hoping some of that holiness would rub off on them.

The Breach had nearly destroyed the world, and many lives were torn asunder. Families were preyed upon by either mages, Templars, or bandits taking advantage of the turmoil that plagued all of southern Thedas. Rifts spat out demons like a baby refusing mashed peas, making it difficult to trade and barter goods throughout the land. For Wynter, it had done so much more. Times had been difficult before moving to Skyhold and the safety of the Inquisition, but it was where she’d met the man she loved more than anything, and had started a family with. Now, resting beneath the shade of an old oak tree, she watched little Dorian as he chased after the dog they’d ended up adopting shortly after returning to the Free Marches.

“You ok there, Snowflake?” Varric asked, taking a seat on the grass beside her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The trees, the stream, the flowers of the field... Just what I needed.” she answered, smiling gently at him. 

Resting her head atop Varric’s as he pulled her close, Wynter let out a contented sigh. She’d never thought her life would turn out as it had, as she’d fully expected to have either ended up in a Circle when Keeper Hawen had sent her away, or slave to some noble, something he or she would use to slake their lust whenever the mood struck them. Instead, she was married to a fine man and living in an estate far removed from the trials of the Dalish. While she’d hated the Keeper at the time for turning her out, she knew it had been for the best. It had landed her here, after all.

“Look at him... So content to just play with the dog... Too bad he doesn’t have someone to play with...” Varric mused, watching his son.

“Oh, that’ll change soon enough.Just give it a while and little Dorian won’t be alone anymore. Of course, he’ll have to wait until the baby’s old enough to join in his games, but I doubt he’ll mind...” Wynter said nonchalantly.

“Is the Inquisitor pregnant _again_? I swear, the way she and Curly go at it, they’re not going to have room in all of Skyhold for the kids they have.” Varric chuckled. “Soldiers will be sharing bunks with one another.”

“As far as I know she isn’t. But then, it _has_ been a while since we’ve seen her...” Wynter replied.

“I can’t imagine the Seeker with a baby, though if she ever had one, it would probably be born with a sword in its hand and fully grown.”

“I wasn’t referring to Cassandra either.” she smirked.

“If not her, then... Who?” he asked, his face mask of confusion.

Arching a delicate brow, Wynter met Varric’s eyes.

“I don’t know... I was ravaged in the darkness of night, preyed upon like a condemned man with his last supper. When next I woke, I found the hairy beast sleeping in my bed, and snoring rather loudly, if I might say. I quietly made my escape into the kitchen, where I knew the devil dared not follow...” Wynter teased, feigning confusion.

Watching the realization of her words wash over Varric’s face made her laugh. When comprehension finally gave back his voice, he met her eyes as words tumbled from his mouth.

“How...?”

“You’ve forgotten? That’s quite the shame, as I only prefer to lay with a man who knows what he’s doing. I suppose I’ll just have to search about for the perfect replacement.” she snickered.

“I know _how_, and believe me, I _haven’t_ forgotten. But dwarves... we’re basically infertile...”

“Dwarves may not be fertile,, but elves _are_. And last time I checked, I was still an elf. Kind of balances things out...” she grinned.

“Well... shit! I’m having another baby! I hope it’s a girl...”

“_You’re_ having the baby? Thank the Maker! Last time was a challenge, given how little you were around. It’ll be nice to see _you_ battle morning sickness for a change.” Wynter chuckled. “And why a girl?”

“If you knew _half_ the trouble Bartrand and I got into as kids... You wouldn’t need to ask that question.” Varric laughed.

“You’re right, I probably wouldn’t. I can well imagine the mischief, given there’s only _one_ of you running around at the moment. It would positively be _hell_ having another.” she giggled. “Your mother was a brave soul. But girls can be far _worse_. There’s drama, laughing, drama, crying, drama, rebelliousness, drama... And did I mention, there’s drama?”

“Seems we’re screwed either way.” Varric snickered.

“Well, not _yet_... Just wait until Dorian goes down for his nap...” Wynter teased.

“Are you threatening me with a good time, Lady Tethras?”

“A lady would never do such a thing. It is beneath her. Besides. If you’re not interested, I’m certain I can find _something_ to occupy my time...”

“Oh, I think you’ll be rather _busy_ tonight, so I wouldn’t go making other plans.” Varric retorted, his voice low and full of hungry desire.

“Is that a promise, Lord Tethras?”

“One you can count on, Lady Tethras, one you can count on...”


End file.
